


Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

by Janeway578



Category: Political RPF - US 20th c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Extramarital Affairs, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeway578/pseuds/Janeway578
Summary: Mayoral Candidate Hillary Rodham meets reporter Bill Clinton and they fall in love.This is based extremely loosely on Bridges of Madison County.  Like, REALLY loosely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore the idea that true love can find you even if you happen to be with someone else. If the idea of Hillary, even in an AU, having an extra-marital affair is not something you can deal with, then best stop reading.
> 
> Constructive criticism, as always, is welcome.
> 
> Oh also, I don't really know much about city government, so any assumptions as to what kind of policy a Mayoral candidate would be responsible for are all mine. :)

Hillary Rodham was enjoying a moment of silence, something it seemed she’d been missing for quite some time.  With her husband and seventeen year-old son gone out of state, the only pressing items on Hillary’s agenda for the next few days were a city council meeting, a scheduled stop at Langer’s, the local cafe, and an interview with some backwoods reporter from Arkansas that her campaign chair had granted in a fit of lunacy.

Having recently thrown her hat in the ring of Park Ridge’s Mayoral race, Hillary was beginning to understand that she needed to be more accessible to the public, but she was at a loss as to why anyone from more than 5 miles away from Park Ridge in any direction would be interested in her as the subject of a news story.

She’d dabbled in local government on the periphery for years, beginning as deputy city clerk twelve years ago, then Alderwoman of Park Ridge’s 3rd Ward eight years after that, all while maintaining a position with the local chapter of the ACLU.  When Mayor Greg Abbott had announced his intention to retire at the end of his term, he had strongly encouraged Hillary to run for his spot, citing her life-long ties to Park Ridge as well as her dogged determination to help those around her.  She had almost reluctantly agreed, and Greg had hooked her up with his old campaign chair and policy advisor to help craft a platform with a focus on social initiatives that benefitted the community as a whole.  It was something near an dear to her heart, and to be able to have a hand in creating it was exciting to Hillary.  She only hoped she could beat her opponent so she’d have a chance to enact it.

A knock on her front door started her from her thoughts and she scrambled up from the sofa to answer it.  

“Mrs. Rodham?” he asked hesitantly.  She felt something twist in her stomach but she couldn’t identify it.  He was not what she had expected.  He was young - well as young as she was - and he had a smile that was boyish, an aura about him that was welcoming, friendly.  She supposed that was a good quality in a reporter, it made it easier to get people to tell you what you wanted to know.  

“It’s Ms.” she said absentmindedly, finally realizing he’d been looking at her expectantly for the last minute while she went over his virtues in her head.

“Ms. Rodham, excuse me,” he said with a smirk.  “I thought I had heard you were married.”

Her hand went to her hip reflexively.  “You heard correctly.  I go by my maiden name.”

He pulled out a small notebook and pencil and jotted something down, then stuck his hand out in greeting.

“Bill Clinton, Northwest Arkansas Times.”

He had a soft yet confident handshake.  There was that twisting feeling again.  

“Hillary Rodham, nice to meet you. Did you want to come in, or did you have some other location in mind to conduct your interview?”  

He picked up a shoulder bag that had gone unnoticed at his feet and started to inch his way inside.  

“Here’s fine. I thought I could just ask you some basic questions regarding your background and your candidacy and then I understand you have a campaign stop and a city council meeting I thought I’d tag along to if you don’t mind.”

The thought of this man observing her had her on edge and she had no idea why.

“By all means,” she said, stepping out of the way to allow him in, then leading him to the left.  “We can sit in the den.  Make yourself comfortable.  Can I get you something to drink?”  

He shook his head no, barely listening as he plopped down in one of the wing-back chairs and scribbled more notes in his notebook.  She wondered what he was writing.  He looked up a moment later to find her eyes on him.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.  “I was just making some notes about your home.  It’s very nice.  How long have you lived here?”

Hillary took a seat on the couch opposite him and tucked one leg underneath her.  “Let’s see...Henry’s 17 and we moved here just before his birth, so about 17 years.”

Bill nodded with interest.  “And how long have you lived in Park Ridge?”

She started to speak but he held up a hand while the other pulled out a small tape recorder.  “Do you mind? It’s easier for me to go back and listen later.”  She shook her head no.

“Go on,” he implored.  “You’ve lived in Park Ridge since...?”

She eyed the tape recorder with trepidation.  “I was born and raised here.  Went all through the public school system.  I left to go to college and then stayed in Boston after law school, but returned in ‘77 and have been here ever since. “

“Wow, Boston huh?  I guess the pull of Illinois was just too strong for you?” he chuckled.

Hillary smiled sadly.  “My mother got sick and I came home to take care of her.  She passed away about 2 years later, a couple of months after Henry was born.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said with genuine sincerity.

“Thank you. I still miss her sometimes.”  She couldn’t understand why it was so easy to impart these details of her life to a stranger, but it was a tad unnerving.  

“Can I ask you a question Mr. Clinton?” 

“Ask away,” he said.

“You’re a long way from Arkansas, why the interest in Park Ridge politics?” 

Bill chuckled.  “I have an old buddy, Dale Burrows from journalism school and he hails from Skokie. When I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago we were discussing the fact that Arkansas city governments are almost exclusively male.  I said I wondered why that was and he mentioned maybe I could gain some perspective from the ‘lady candidate’ running for Mayor in Park Ridge.  He got me in touch with your campaign person and the rest is history.”  His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Hillary scoffed.  “Lady Candidate?”  

Bill couldn’t help but grin at her consternation.  “His term not mine.”

“Yeah, well terms like ‘Lady Candidate’ don’t really help women feel like they have equal footing in a race when they’re being singled out solely by their gender. Why not highlight the differences between me and my opponent in ideology and policy instead of anatomy?” she asked, annoyed.  

He was riling her up.  But why?

“Ok, so let’s focus on some of your policies then,” Bill said, digging through his bag to pull out different notepad with more notes scrawled on it.  “I was looking at your platform and it looks very heavily slanted toward women and children, much more so than your opponent.  Do you think there’s a correlation between a female-focused agenda and the fact that you’re female?

Hillary was incredulous.  “I think...” she began, choosing her words as carefully as she could.  “...that without the women and the children of a community having access to social programs, food, healthcare and basic essentials, the community as a whole suffers.  I consider that human decency.”

“Do you think your proposed platform will hurt your position with men?”  

Now she was convinced he was trying to get a rise out of her.

She rolled her eyes.  “I think if men can’t see the value in making sure everyone is equally cared for - if they don’t have a vested interest in seeing their mothers, sisters, wives and daughters thrive - then they don’t have to vote for me.”

“That’s a pretty dangerous thing to say during a campaign, Ms. Rodham,” he said.  He was enjoying this and she was most definitely not.

“No, Mr. Clinton, dangerous is implying that I think only with my vagina.”  She looked pointedly at him and he squirmed.  Good.

She barreled on.  “Also, what we’ve put forth for children, for example more after school programs for youth and opportunities for teens to intern at local business as a part of their high school curriculum, are not, quote, female-focused, but aim to serve everyone.”

“Your opponent believes cutting social spending will allow more room in the budget to expand the business and retail footprint in Park Ridge.  What are your thoughts?”

Hillary sighed. “I think cutting social programs is cruel. Citizens who feel valued and safe are empowered to pay it forward, to become integral parts of the community.  And turning our backs on them when they might need a little extra help is not who I want to be as a Mayor, or as a person for that matter.”

“What does your husband think?”  He grinned, knowing his question was completely out of line.

That was it.  ‘Deep breath Hillary,’ she chanted in her head to keep her from reaching over and punching that smug look off his face.

“My husband is not running for Mayor, I am,” she said tersely.  “Are you being deliberately sexist or are you just trying to piss me off on purpose?”

“What do you think Ms. Rodham?”

“I don’t know Mr. Clinton, but if you’re trying to gain perspective on what a female candidate goes through, perhaps you should take a good look at your line of questioning and you might get a clue.”

He started to speak but she cut him off.  “I have to be at a campaign stop in an hour and I’ve got to get ready, I’m assuming I’ll see you there?”

“I’ll be there,” he said as he stuffed his notebooks haphazardly back in his satchel and stood.

“Thank you for your time Ms. Rodham,” he said on his way to the door.

“Pleasure,” she replied sarcastically, almost pushing him through the door onto the porch, then closing it in his face.  

Hillary stood with her back to the door for a moment. She had no idea why she was letting this person aggravate her so much, but she needed to pull it together before she saw him again.  She needed to be on her best behavior, show him that people’s ridiculous assumptions about women being too emotional to handle things like politics were utter garbage.  ‘Put your armor on Hillary,’ she thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

Bill pulled his rental car up to the front of her house but made no move to get out. What exactly was he hoping to accomplish by going there, he wondered? The likelihood of him ever seeing Hillary Rodham again after this interview was over was slim to none. And yet, he didn’t want her to think poorly of him, though he didn’t quite understand why it mattered.

He had watched her earlier, interacting with patrons at the restaurant, listening intently to their stories and sharing in their joys and hardships. She had been vibrant, engaged, down-to-earth, and Bill had taken the opportunity to observe the faces of those she touched and was touched by. They seemed to understand that their lives mattered to her on more than a superficial level. It was really quite something to behold and he had to admit it was damned captivating to witness. Such a far cry from the seemingly aloof woman who had sat across from him in her home just that morning and who had gone out of her way to avoid him for the remainder of the evening, though they had occupied the same space. Maybe it was the disconnect between the two that was driving Bill to want to know more about her.

Whatever it was, it had brought him here and he felt compelled to at least say his piece.

He took the front steps and stood outside the door for a moment before ringing the bell. Nothing. He had turned and started to walk away when he heard the unclicking of the lock and then she was opening the door.

She had changed out of the summer pantsuit she had worn earlier and was now in a light cotton dress, her shoulder-length blonde locks framing her porcelain face and making her look soft and well...beautiful. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier how blue her eyes were and how dewey her skin looked? 

“Mr. Clinton?” she asked, befuddled. “What can I do for you?”

He swallowed. “Bill,” he insisted. “Please call me Bill.”

She smiled, looking him up and down. “Okay Bill. You want to come in? And by the way, since we’re on a first name basis now, please call me Hillary.”

“Sure, I’d like that Hillary. Just for a few minutes, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Hillary spoke over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen, and he tried to focus on her words instead of the curves of her body through the light fabric of her dress. He was failing miserably.

“I was just sitting down to dinner and I made way too much, like I always do when I’m alone. You eat yet?”

He shook his head. “Oh, I don’t want to bother you, I was just hoping you had a few minutes to talk,” he replied. 

“Mr. Clinton. Bill. Sit,” she insisted. She seemed so much more relaxed than she had that morning.

The table was laid out with some baked pasta dish, bread and salad, her half consumed glass of wine sitting next to her partially empty plate. She hadn’t been exaggerating, it was enough to feed a small army.

“Wow. That’s a lot of food,” he said with a smile. 

“I told you. Baked ziti is Henry’s...he’s my son...it’s his favorite. I always make one of his favorites when he’s gone, it reminds me of him. Sappy, I know, but helps me miss him a little less.” Bill noticed she didn’t mention missing her husband. Odd, he thought.

“That’s sweet,” he said. “Is your husband away as well?” He wondered if that sounded like an inappropriate question.

“Yeah, Henry plays all star baseball and he has a tournament this week. My husband is with him. I’d have gone but I had the council meeting and some campaign stuff to take care of, so here I am, with fifty pounds of pasta and no one to share it with. Well, that is until you showed up at my door. Again. Perhaps it was fate,” she joked. 

Bill noticed how she glowed when she smiled. 

She took an extra plate out of the cabinet and piled it with food, then handed it back to him and they were left to their own thoughts for a moment while they tucked into their meals. Finally, they spoke at the same time.

“I’m sor-”

“I wanted to-”

Hillary laughed. “Go ahead,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“I wanted to apologize if I rubbed you the wrong way earlier,” he said thoughtfully.

Her eyes drilled into his, urging him to continue. “It’s an old reporter’s tactic of mine to try to throw people off their game. It’s sometimes easier to get them to reveal facets of themselves they might not otherwise, but I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole.”

Her smile was warmer than he expected. “You’re good. You definitely had me aggravated. I’m sorry I let my emotions get the better of me. It’s not usually like me to be so irritable.”

He was about to say more, but the phone on the wall rang and she held up a finger as she answered it.

“Hi Sweetheart! How’d the game go?” Her face was radiant. “Yeah? Oh my God Hen that’s fantastic! 7-3? I’m so proud of you! What time do you play tomorrow? Okay, call me tomorrow night. Get some sleep Hen, love you. Yeah sure, you can put him on. Good night Sweetie.”

Her expression, which had been happy and ebullient a moment before, was now surprisingly neutral. Bill was intrigued by this dynamic, but stared down at his plate and pushed his food around so as not to seem like he was eavesdropping. Even though he definitely was.

“Hey,” she said with a hint of exhaustion that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Yeah, he told me, it’s wonderful. Uh huh. Yep. It was fine. Langer’s and then a council meeting. Yes. Make sure Hen’s got water and Gatorade ok?” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes Andrew, I know he’s not a baby, but I also know he’s been dehydrated twice in the last year so we need to be on him about drinking ok? Thank you. Yeah, ok. Have him call me tomorrow please. Sure. See you guys on Friday. Good Night.”

No terms of endearment, no expressions of love. Bill’s level of intrigue settled hard in the pit of his stomach.

She placed the receiver back in the cradle with her back to him and he could tell by her posture that she was willing herself to relax. When she turned to face him again, her soft smile was back in place.

“Henry made a double play for the last out of the game. Their team is up 2-0 in the series,” she said, motherly pride clearly on display.

“Hey, congrats that’s terrific,” Bill responded. 

She took a forkful from her plate. “You have any kids Bill?” she asked.

He smiled, melancholy. “I do. Amelia. She’s 14. Lives with her mother in D.C.” His heart clenched thinking of his little girl, who he hadn’t seen in almost a year. 

Hillary covered his hand with her own in a show of understanding, much like he witnessed at the restaurant earlier when she’d been talking to the diners. It felt different being on the receiving end of that compassion, like being enveloped in a warm hug.

“That must be very difficult, being so far away from her,” she said.

Bill nodded. “Her mother and I have a very...contentious relationship. When I decided to move us from D.C. to Arkansas, my ex couldn’t cope. She filed for divorce, took Amelia and left about 6 months later, and I’ve been fighting for split custody of her ever since. That was three years ago. I haven’t seen my daughter in 11 months,” he said sadly. 

Her hand tightened around his and he squeezed hers in return, gracing her with a warm grin. 

“You should be a reporter you know. Here I am supposed to be interviewing you and I’m the one telling you my life story,” he chuckled.

“Perhaps I’ve missed my calling.” 

The radio, which had been playing somewhat unnoticed in the background began to blast The Macarena, and Hillary scrunched up her nose.

“The newest dance craze. It’s a shame this generation of kids will never know the Mashed Potato or the Hustle. Instead they have this.”

Bill grinned. “You know how to do it?”

“Of course I do. I have a seventeen year old son, what better way to be universally adored than to show up at his school dance and do this in front of all of his friends?” 

Bill guffawed. “This I’ve got to see. Off the record, of course.”

Hillary took the last gulp from her wine glass and stood up. “If I’m doing this, you’re doing it too so get up here,” she said, attempting to pull him out of his chair. He resisted.

“I don’t know the movements,” he said self-consciously. “How about I watch you once first?” His gaze roamed over her where she stood, causing a shiver to run up her back.

Her eyes stayed on him as she began to sway in time to the beat. Her right arm came out, palm down, followed by her left. Right palm up, then left, then arms crossed over her chest to her shoulders. Hips still rocking, she moved to the music, arms behind her head then hands placed in an ‘x’ over her hip bones. She smiled with her eyes and licked her lips as she rested her hands on her lower back and then did a deep circle with her hips before hopping a quarter turn. When she was done, she threw her head back and laughed. Bill was completely enamored by her carefree spirit.  


“See, nothing to it, now come on.” He stood up next to her.

“Swing your hips,” she said and Bill awkwardly swayed his lower half, eliciting a giggle from Hillary. “Okay, now follow me.”

Bill looked sideways to try to mimic her movements and they made it two more quarters before the song thankfully ended. They collapsed back in their chairs howling with laughter. 

Unconsciously, she reached over with her thumb and brushed the corner of his mouth, wiping a bit of red sauce away and then, coming back to her senses, she gasped and started to withdraw her hand like she’d been burned. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she said, aghast that she’d just touched him so intimately. “I guess it’s harder to turn off that ‘Mother’ switch than I thought.” The reddening of her cheeks was endearing.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s a lot better than strolling through the lobby of my hotel with food on my face. You actually did me a favor.” His attempt to lighten the mood earned him a small smile, though she still hid her eyes behind her hand. 

“Come on. Really, it’s not a big deal. See, look...” He licked the pad of his thumb and repeated the motion on the corner of her mouth and then swiped it slowly and gently over her bottom lip. 

Her mouth trembled at the unexpected touch and she closed her eyes to stop the onslaught of feelings rushing at her. Why was such a simple gesture having such an intoxicating effect on her? 

“There. No harm done,” he whispered as he pulled his hand away. The air around them felt electric, charged with something neither one of them wanted to put a label on, but nonetheless seemed dangerous.

“I...um...do you mind if I use your bathroom?” he said awkwardly, trying like hell to escape the tension that had surrounded them.

Hillary jolted out of her reverie. “Yes of course, take a left out of the kitchen and it’s the second door on your right. Past the guest room.”

The first thing Bill noticed on his way past the “guest room” was that it didn’t seem to be a guest room at all. The room most definitely looked occupied and from the items on the nightstand and dresser, he’d venture a guess that Hillary’s husband was the occupant. He felt inordinately guilty as he tiptoed into the room to look around, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Men’s cologne on the armoire, men’s clothes in the closet and hamper, pictures of a man and a teenaged boy on the bedside table. Shoes lined up under the foot of the bed. He wondered what it all meant. He decided to file it away in case it warranted further discussion, and he hurriedly made his way to the restroom so he wasn’t caught snooping around.

She was clearing the table when he returned and he fell into step with her easily, taking what she handed him and wrapping the leftovers in plastic wrap, then finding spots for them in the refrigerator. 

On the last pass, she let go of the bread before he was able to grab hold of it, and the rolls went scattering to the floor. 

“Damn it,” she said, bending down to where he’d already knelt on the floor. He jerked his head up at the same time and his forehead bumped against her chin.

“Ow!” She stood back up and rubbed her chin where the top of his head had made contact.

“Hillary, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He took her chin in his hand to inspect it. Soft fingers traced the lines of her jaw on either side and she took a sharp breath.

“Does that hurt?” he asked softly. She shook her head silently, pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip without thinking.

“I didn’t see-” 

She leaned forward and put her mouth to his, effectively cutting off his words as she kissed him soundly. A moan of surprise emanated from the back of his throat when she plied his lips open and slipped her tongue inside, and the hands that had been brushing her jawline earlier now cupped her cheeks to keep her with him. 

The kiss was full of wonder and promise and Bill was sinking deeper into her when she abruptly planted her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“I think you’d better go,” she said, turning away from him and biting her fist.

“Hillary...” he implored. He didn’t want to leave like that.

“Please. Just leave,” she cried, covering her eyes in shame. She couldn’t believe she’d just kissed him, but his pull had been strong. She had felt it all evening, all day even. That indefinable thing that seemed to draw her to him, and she knew if he didn’t leave she’d do something there was no coming back from.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off without turning around.

He walked out of the kitchen, and Hillary broke down with a sob, head in her hands. God, what had she done?

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dance scene I tried to model after the one in the movie because it's so damned sexy. I hope I even remotely succeeded.

Dressed in her bathrobe, Hillary opened the door to get the paper, finding him sitting on her porch swing.  Next to him, a cup holder full of coffee cups.  She really didn’t feel ready to see him after the previous evening, but it seemed he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

“Why is it every time I open my door lately, I find you on the porch?” she asked wryly.

Bill had the good grace to look sheepish at least.  He held the coffee out as if in offering.  

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I got black, and I got one with cream and sugar.  You can take your pick.”  He seemed nervous.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she deadpanned, but couldn’t keep the small grin from her lips as she watched his face fall.

“Oh,” was all he said.

“Relax Bill, I’m kidding,” she said, sitting beside him and reaching for the cup with the sweetened coffee, which seemed lukewarm at best.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Oh...uh...well, I got here a while ago but I didn’t know how late you usually slept and I didn’t want to wake you up.  I was going to knock by 9 if you hadn’t come out to get your paper.”

“I see.”  She took a sip and let the sweet liquid slide down her throat.  The silence stretched between them.

“I’m guessing you came to talk about what happened last night?” No point in putting off the inevitable.

“Something like that.”

She sighed, taking another sip of her coffee and holding the cup between her hands like a shield.  

“What can I say?  I made a mistake and I’m sorry.  It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Was it a mistake?” he asked softly, eyes staring intently at his own coffee cup where he held it in his lap.

The neighbor walking her dog caught Hillary’s attention and she bristled, though the woman didn’t seem to notice them on the porch.

“Let’s discuss this inside,” she said hurriedly.

Once inside the door, she continued.

“Look, Bill, I don’t know what you want me to say.  Whatever happened last night, it can’t happen again.  It just can’t.”  She hoped she sounded stronger than she felt, standing there in her bathrobe with his eyes on her.

“Then why did you kiss me Hillary?  Can you honestly tell me you didn’t feel something?  I don’t even know what it is, but it was definitely there and you know it.”

“I’m married.”  She wasn’t denying his assertion.

“I know.”  He took a step closer to her and she backed up.  Another, but this time she held her ground.  There were mere inches between them.

“Who’s sleeping in the guest room?” he asked pointedly.  She blanched.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?  I had a look around and it sure looks like someone’s occupying that room.  If I had to venture a guess I’d say it’s your husband.”  He stepped closer still.

“So that begs the question, why?”  

Hillary’s eyes burned with indignation.  

“Snooping around my house are you Mr. Clinton?” 

She turned to walk away but he caught her arm and spun her back to face him.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Clinton now?  Okay, but you still didn’t answer my question _Ms. Rodham._   Does your husband share your bed?”  He was so close to her now she could feel his breath tickling her.  Cornered, her face fell and her eyes filled with tears.

“No,” she answered shakily.

Bill took no satisfaction in seeing her upset, but the reporter in him needed to get to the bottom of what had happened, and was happening between them.

“How long?” he asked.

Silent tears dripped down her cheeks and Bill reached out to brush them away but she batted at his hands.

“Fine, you want to know?  Here’s a headline for you Mr. Clinton.  Hillary Rodham’s marriage of convenience.  Husband sleeps in guest room for 5 years to avoid frigid mayoral candidate.  Happy?”  

She swiped violently at her tears and wrenched her arm from his grip so she could put some distance between them.  This time he let her go, and she walked away from him toward the back of the house to the kitchen, leaving him to follow slowly behind her.

He found her at the sink, back to him, but he could see her shoulders shaking.

“Hillary...”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve even been hugged by someone?” he heard her ask. “And I don’t mean my son or someone I meet on the campaign trail.  I mean really, truly held by a lover?  Years Bill, too many years to count.”  

She turned to face him and she looked forlorn, beautiful.  He wanted to be the one to hold her after so long, but he felt out of place.  

“You could leave,” he said softly.

She shook her head. 

“He’s a good man, and a good father.  Maybe we’re not meant to be married, but Henry needs his parents.  And then, there is the whole political undercurrent, which I thought I cared about.  It’s hard enough running for office as a woman, but a woman who’s unmarried, or especially, divorced?  It’d never happen.  So we soldier on.  Andrew puts in an appearance when it’s warranted, playing the loving husband but we retire to separate lives.  Oh, we spend time with Henry but it doesn’t go much further than that. We care for one another, but it isn’t love.  I’m not even sure I know what love is anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. It’s the life I’ve chosen, I have to live with it,” she sniffed.

He walked up to her and pulled her into a hug, which she fought for a moment but finally relented to.  Her arms went under his and around his mid-section while he cradled her head with the back of one hand.  The other circled her waist and pressed her closer to him.  She stood on her tiptoes and let out a shaky sob into the crook of his neck.  They remained that way in the middle of the kitchen until she pulled back to look at him.

“I have to go to work,” she sighed, searching his eyes.

“Okay.”  This time she let him dry her tears with his thumbs.

“Come back tonight.  7:30.  I’ll make dinner. _Please_.”  The last word was a whisper.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.”

“I’ll be here.  I have some character witnesses to interview for our article, I’ll come by when I’m done.”

“Okay,” she said.  

He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and she leaned into his touch.

“I’ll see you then.”  His eyes said more than his words could in that moment.  He turned and walked out the door, not trusting himself to be that close to her any longer.

*****

When he got there he found a small note taped to the window on the porch in what he could only assume was her handwriting.  _‘In the shower, dinner’s in the oven. Help yourself to a beer from the fridge - H’_

He tested the door to find it unlocked so he walked in.  He could hear the water running upstairs, and the thought of it running down and over her naked body just a few rooms away was wreaking havoc on his hard-fought control.  Maybe a beer would help alleviate some of the tension and nervousness he’d been feeling all afternoon.

He put a CD in the player, then popped open a bottle and took a long swig, letting it infuse him with just enough warmth so he began to relax a little.  Taking his trusty notebook out of his knapsack he began to read over the notes he’d taken during his character interviews earlier - Hillary’s best friend since high school and a former Alderwoman who had served with her on the city council.  He had learned she had always shown an interest in the lives and well being of others, both in a personal capacity and through her church youth group as a young girl.  As Alderwoman she had worked with Mayor Abbott to spearhead a weekly scavenger hunt at the public library where kids would get engaged in reading by having to search for clues that were hidden in books.  It was so popular they had to add a second session and a waiting list to accommodate all of the kids that wanted to participate.  Each anecdote chipped away at the mystery of her, and what Bill was finding was a truly remarkable human being.  

He looked up to see her leaning against the door frame tentatively and his heart jumped.  She wore a simple black dress, slightly off the shoulder with a rounded neckline, giving him a glimpse of her sexy cleavage, delicate collar bones and the elegant column of her neck where she had swept her hair up into a loose chignon.  Her legs and feet were bare making her seem smaller somehow, especially with the uneasy look on her face.  Like she was waiting for him to say something.  He got up from his chair, eyes roaming unapologetically over her body but he couldn’t seem to find his voice.

“What’s wrong?” she asked self-consciously.

“You look stunning,” he said as he took a step closer.  

Hillary smiled and began to walk hesitantly toward him when the phone rang.  She looked at it, and then at Bill, silently pleading with it to stop the racket, to stop imposing on their moment.  But after the third ring she picked it up and Bill took his seat at the table, facing away from her.

“Hello?  Oh hi Greg.  I’m just fixing myself some dinner.  Yeah, the reporter.  I’ve met him.  Hillbilly?  If that’s what a hillbilly looks like, I don’t know, he seems pretty normal to me.” she chuckled.

She reached out to straighten the collar of his shirt, running a finger under it to smooth it out before letting her hand settle on his shoulder, and Bill closed his eyes and inhaled shakily.  Even that light touch was enough to send his senses into overdrive.  He slowly covered her hand with his and she completely lost her train of thought.

“Uhhh yeah, I was just about to sit down to eat, can we talk later?  Sure.”  

She hung up without even saying goodbye, then took a shuddering breath to compose herself.  Bill turned slightly in his chair and took her hands, then stood and pulled her to him for a dance.  Aretha Franklin played quietly in the background as they slowly moved into the center of the room.

 

_Take me to Heart_

_And I’ll Always Love You_

_And Nobody_

_Can make me do wrong_

 

She pressed her face into the soft fabric of his shirt as they twirled around and his hand on her waist pressed her closer to him.

 

_Take me for Granted_

_Leaving Love Unsure_

_Makes willpower Weak_

_And temptation Strong_

 

His warm fingers skated up her arm to push her dress back up where it had slipped off her shoulder and she was lost.  Completely lost. Her body was quivering against his with every breath she took and she stared up at him with wide eyes as their faces drew closer together.

 

_A woman’s only Human_

_You should Understand_

_She’s not just a Plaything_

_She’s flesh and Blood_

_Just like her Man_

 

“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered, centimeters from her.  She licked her lips and her hot breath fluttered against him. “No one’s asking you to,” she breathed, a second before her mouth covered his.

The song faded into the background but they continued to sway as their lips collided over and over.  Fists balled into his shirt, she whimpered when his tongue dipped between her parted lips to explore the inner sweetness of her mouth, and they stopped moving altogether as the kiss grew more heated.  Lips tongues and teeth tangled seductively and a series of low moans filled the room as the last strains of the song ended.

 

_If you want a do right, all day Woman_

_You’ve got to be a do right, all night Man_

 

Their lips eased apart but their foreheads rested against one another.

“Is this what you want Hillary?  Because I'm not going to apologize for what's about to happen,” Bill said on a sigh.

“Don't.  I want you...this. Take me to bed, Bill” she pleaded.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving with three young kids has tapped me out, making it hard to write, but hopefully this makes up for it.
> 
> Now to figure out what to do with the other 2 stories...

The walk up the stairs to her bedroom was taken in silence, each trying not to overthink what was about to happen.  The gravity of it could be weighed later, turned over and analyzed with precision, but tonight was for them and oh how Bill wanted to make Hillary see how worthy she was of the love and pleasure he planned to bestow upon her.  

Hillary stopped short of the open door and turned to him, her hauntingly beautiful smile becoming somewhat timid as she reached for his hand to pull him over the threshold. They stood in the middle of the room. 

“Hey,” he said softly, hand still entwined with hers.  “It’s not too late to change your min-”

She put two fingers to his lips to quiet him, then lifted up on her tiptoes to bring him closer to her, blue gazes locked on each other.  She cupped the sides of his face and rubbed her thumbs over the softness of his cheeks. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” she said with absolute conviction.  “Please.”  

Turning her by her shoulders to face away from him, Bill began to pull the hairpins from her hair one by one, taking his time to separate the silky strands with his long fingers.  Even the simple press of his fingers against her was seductive.  Everything about him was setting her on fire and by the time he sunk his hands into her hair to massage her scalp, her breathing was already shaky and uneven.  She felt his hot breath caress her ear as he brought his lips to her, fingers moving to the top of the zipper at the back of her dress.

“May I?”  

“Yes,” was her husked reply.

He sat on the bed with her in front of him and the zipper whispered down her back, cool air hitting her already heated skin. Bill ran the tips of his fingers ever so softly down the line he’d just exposed and Hillary shivered as he pulled the two halves apart to reveal more of her.  She was divine.

“So beautiful and soft,” he breathed.  “I want to touch you everywhere.”  

Hillary inhaled sharply.  She couldn’t think of a thing in the world she needed more than his hands on her, making her feel alive.

His tongue flicked out to lick between her shoulder blades then he trailed his lips languidly along the curve of her spine as he pulled the dress down her shoulders and off her body inch by agonizing inch. It dropped to the floor at her feet where she pushed it out of the way with her toes, and he continued his journey to the dip of her lower back. Turning her once again to press his face against the warm skin of her stomach, his large hands rested at the small of her back and the way he cradled her like she was the most precious thing in the universe had her senses reeling. He took her hands in each of his and held her away from him.

“Let me look at you,” Bill drawled.  

Her first inclination was to shy away from his scrutiny and she bit her lip under his gaze.  After all, it had been so long since someone had looked at her like a lover, since she had been an object of someone else's desire. He must have sensed her internal struggle because he squeezed her hands.

“Don’t,” he pleaded.  “You’re perfect.  Absolutely, breathtakingly perfect.  I want to see all of you.  Will you let me?”

Hillary nodded her assent and he skirted his hands around her rib cage to the back of her bra, unclasping it with ease and letting it slacken around her middle.  He reached up to her shoulders to draw it down her arms.  His eyes never left hers until he discarded it on the floor beside him, exposing full, round breasts with dusky pink nipples already taut and awaiting his touch.  He placed a kiss to the valley between them and she whimpered, trying to get him to touch her where she wanted him most.  

“Patience Love,” he whispered into her skin.  “Let’s get these off of you.”  He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and dragged them over her thighs and off until she was in front of him completely nude.  His breath caught in his throat.  He tried to speak but his words sat like cement on his tongue.

“My God,” was all he could manage, and he had to hug her tight around her waist and bury his face against her abdomen just to try to calm his jumbled thoughts.

She put a finger under his chin to get him to look at her.

“I want to see you too.”

Pulling him up off the bed, she began to slip the buttons out of the holes in his shirt, making quick work of it and helping him to pull it off. He couldn’t help but smile at the way her tongue darted out of her mouth when she concentrated on her task. He wanted to memorize the touch of her fingers as they brushed lightly against him and how her eyes danced at the skin she had uncovered.  He wanted to take every _thing_ that was uniquely Hillary and imprint it in his mind the way she was imprinting herself on his body.

Her hands immediately skated over the broad planes of his bare chest, so solid and alive under her fingers, and she leaned forward to place a kiss to his bicep as her small hands started for his pants.  His breathing grew more ragged the closer she got to the  straining bulge there and he gasped when she began to stroke him through the fabric tentatively.  But Bill was determined to draw this out, make it memorable for her, so he stilled her hands.

“Hillary,” he sighed.  “Honey, slow down.  We’ve got all night.”  

He placed her hands back at her sides to finish the task of removing his pants and underwear, then watched as her wide eyes dropped from his face down to his chest and then lower still to his thick hard cock, already dark-tipped and weeping.  A thrill ran through him when she unconsciously licked her lips and then took the plump pink bottom one between her teeth.

“Mmmm,” she said without thinking, then looked back up at him with genuine wonder and affection.

“You’re beautiful,” she smiled.  

Bill pushed a stray lock behind her ear then pulled her to him by the back of her head, enveloping her in a fierce hug.  The knot of arousal in Hillary’s lower belly was slowly uncoiling when their naked flesh slid sensuously together, hard against soft, smooth against rough.  He whispered hotly in her ear as he maneuvered her back onto the bed.

“I want you so much.  Let me make love to you.”

“Please,” she whimpered.

Hillary lay splayed out in the center of the bed, lithe arms poised above her, and as Bill stretched beside her he rolled her onto her side so they were face to face.  He ran his hand deliberately from her shoulder downward over the slope of her waist and curve of her hip and then back up, watching the way her chest rose and fell faster and her eyes slipped shut from his simple touch.  

“Does that feel good?” he asked.  She opened her hooded eyes with a nod.

“I need you to tell me Honey.  Tell me what you like,” he implored.

Hillary reached for his hand and brought it to her cheek, his thumb absently rubbing her bottom lip and their eyes burning into each other.  Her tongue darted out between her parted lips to flick the tip before she moved his hand slowly down to cup the fullness of her breast.  She squeezed tenderly with her hand over his.

“Touch me,” she breathed.

The feather light touch of his fingers tickled around the circumference of her breast, round and round closer and closer until he got to the soft pink areola.  His thumb took over for his fingers as he circled it gently, watching her face for cues, and the sharp inhalation when he brushed over her nipple told him he was on the right track.

“Like that?”  

He rolled the tight bud between his thumb and forefinger and she mewled, an infinitely sexy little sound from the back of her throat.

“Yesss Bill. Just like that.”  The breathy quality in her voice was driving him crazy.  

He bowed his head and laved her other nipple while pressing her down onto her back.  Her hands found purchase on his head, fingers running through his thick hair, urging him on with soft sighs and whimpers and their changed position allowed him to run his fingertips down her trembling body.  Slow and sinuous movements from her chest over her abdomen then skirting outward to her thigh, bending her knee and placing her foot flat on the downy comforter.  Up, up her inner thigh to the apex, he lifted up on his elbow so he could get a look at her flushed face when he slid his middle finger between her slick lower lips.  She tried to keep her eyes on him but they dropped shut of their own accord when he added a second digit and touched her clit for the first time with the pad of his thumb.  Hillary hissed through her teeth to keep from screaming; the feel of someone else’s hands on her after so many years of finding her own release was too intense.

“You okay?” he asked tenderly.  

She covered his hand with hers, caressing it with her fingers like he was caressing inside of her, stoking her.

“Yes, God it feels so good,” she said with a shuddering sigh.  

He circled her clit with his thumb while continuing to piston his fingers in and out of her, letting her ride his hand while he watched her.  Eyes closed, cheeks red and pretty blonde hair fanned out on the pillow around her, she was simply breathtaking.  He wanted, no, needed to bury his face between her thighs, to inhale the scent that was hers and hers alone, taste the sweet nectar her body was offering him in abundance.  He needed it like his next breath.

“Honey,” he groaned and she shifted her focus back to him.  “I want to put my mouth on you.”  

Knowing he had her attention, he pulled his fingers from her and brought them to his mouth, licking her moisture from them one by one while she watched, rapt.  He kissed her then, sharing her taste with her for a moment before he moved lower between her breasts, dropping a kiss to her quivering stomach just above where her panties would rest, then settling on his belly between her legs.  She sat up on her elbows to get a better look at him as he hooked her thigh over his shoulder.   

Bill pointed his tongue and dipped it inside of her, letting her taste coat it before flattening it out and lapping her from her entrance to the hood of her clitoris.

“Ohhhhh,” she whimpered.  She was a hair’s breadth away from coming and it was going to be intense.

He repeated the motion over and over with the flat of his tongue and then latched onto her bud with his lips, humming around it and causing the most delicious vibrations against her.  When he slipped two fingers into her and curled them inward, she clamped down on them and cried.

“Oh God, Oh God I’m coming Bill, don’t stop!”

He rode out her orgasm, feeling her juices run over his fingers and chin, until the spasms of her inner muscles ceased and she collapsed back on the bed with a groan.  With a final kiss to her inner thigh he crawled up next to her on the pillow, brushing her disheveled hair back from her face and smiling.

“Good?” he asked hopefully.

“Kiss me,” she demanded in response, a moment before her lips caught his, tongue snaking out between her teeth and delving into him.  The taste of herself on his lips spurred her on, and she pushed him over onto his back and straddled him.  He could feel her dripping onto him and it was insanely erotic.  He wrenched his lips away from hers.

“Hillary,” he breathed.  He had kept it together for her sake, but he was quickly losing control.  “Are you ready?”

“Yesss.  How do you want me?” 

Bill rolled her over and stretched atop her, pinning her hands above her head with one hand around her wrists.  

“Like this.”

He took his thick erection in the other hand and pushed the tip inside of her, letting her adjust to his size.  He was using every ounce of willpower he possessed not to thrust hard and deep, trying to be cognizant of the fact that it had been a while for her, but Hillary was having none of it.  She pushed her hips up to meet him, causing him to slide in further.

“It’s okay,” she said.  “I’m fine.  Please Bill,” she practically begged. He slid home in one long, smooth thrust, causing them both to cry out when her silky heat surrounded him. 

“Mmmmm,” he murmured.  “We fit together so perfectly Baby.  You feel so incredibly good around me.  So soft and warm and snug.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, overcome by his words and the feel of him over and inside her, filling her in so many ways, making her whole again.

“Perfect,” she repeated.  “How can this be wrong?”

Bill stilled and took her in his arms, slipping his hands under the back of her head to gently hold her, the one person on earth he was utterly convinced had been created specifically for him.

“Give me a minute,” he choked, eyes filling with unshed tears.  

She held his face between her palms, drawing him to her to place sweet kisses on his forehead, the bridge of his nose, each of his cheeks and finally against his lips.

“I know,” she whispered into his mouth, not needing to explain what she meant.  He smiled and nodded in understanding, seemingly placated by her simple declaration.

Reaching behind him with one hand, he pulled her thigh tightly around his waist while his other hand still loosely held her wrists.  He licked her bottom lip and then sucked it into his mouth, deepening their kiss, making her melt into him as he withdrew slightly from her depths and then pushed back in.  Again, then again, feeling her grip his length tightly in a velvety hug, rubbing against her clit with his pubic bone, moans and sighs filling the silence of the room as they climbed toward the peak.

Hillary broke free of his restraint to circle her arms around his back, one hand running through the sheen of sweat there, the other holding the back of his head to keep his face close to hers.  He bit her earlobe then soothed it with his tongue, humming softly in her ear with every thrust of his hips into hers.

“I’m getting close.”  Hot breath was assaulting her, causing a rush of moisture to release around his cock.  

“Mmmm me too you feel amazing.  Keep going.”  

“I want to make you come first,” he panted.  “I want to feel you all around me.”

Hillary whimpered and pushed at his shoulder to roll them over again.  

She sat astride him, fingers linked through his beside his head, controlling the rhythm with the tilt of her hips so that each time she ground down, her clit rubbed deliciously against him.  Once, twice, thrice and she threw her head back and came with a wail.  Her back bowed, exposing her neck, graceful and swan-like. Bill could feel every clench and ripple around his sensitive cock and it was enough to trigger his own release. 

“Yessss!  Hillary...ohhhh.”  He released his essence into her waiting body with a series of grunts and groans, eyes screwed shut and head thrashing about on the pillow.  A moment later Hillary slumped over top of him and he wrapped his arms firmly around her, pressing their sweaty bodies profoundly close together.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she said when she finally caught her breath.

His hand on her hair held her to him, cheek to his chest.

“It’s been doing that since the second I met you,” he admitted.  He could feel her smile against his skin just before she kissed his breastbone.

She rested her chin on his chest atop her folded hands. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked timidly.

“Is that what you want?”  He hoped like hell it was.

“Very much,” she replied.  

“Me too Honey.”  

She stretched out in front of him and he spooned behind her, holding her tight under the pulled up covers, their own little haven.  Maybe tomorrow the guilt would come, she didn’t know.  

It occurred to her only then that their time together would be brief and fleeting, and she tried to squelch the tears that sprang to her eyes at the thought that she’d have to go on living a life without him in it.  Two short days after meeting Bill Clinton, she had no idea how she was going to let him go.

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

The shadows played off of his bare, sleeping form in the darkness of the room.  She could see from her perch next to him how the lines of his face relaxed in slumber, how the tiniest hint of a smile graced his slack lips.  His breathing was soft and even.  Hillary had been watching him, chin in hand, for countless minutes now, cataloguing his features and sounds, storing them away in her mind to be unpacked when his inevitable departure took him away from her.  She couldn’t say when she had begun to cry, but the tears had slipped unbidden from her eyes, chasing each other in tracks down her cheeks until they dropped onto the pillow below.

It wasn’t guilt that was niggling at her, and a part of her was even more upset about the distinct lack of shame she felt.  No, it was the crushing realization that she had found the love of her life and was going to have to let him go.  It was the anger at fate for bringing them together, only to allow them to be torn apart without reaching their full potential.  She had tried, and failed, to think of a scenario where it didn’t end badly for everyone and that had only served to devastate her further.  She knew she needed to stop wallowing before the impending heartbreak ate her alive.

Her focus shifted back to Bill as he stirred lightly and brought his arm over his head.  She took in his large hand and long, elegant fingers where they rested on the pillow, remembering the feel of them in her own hand as they had introduced themselves on her porch such a short time ago.  How they had scribbled notes in his notepad, notes about _her._   She wondered what he had written then. What he would write now that he knew her as a lover.  How those same hands had stripped her bare, not only in the literal sense, but also had broken through the carefully constructed facade of her emotions and seen her for who and what she really was.  And how those hands and fingers had then worshipped her body, bringing her pleasure that she had never felt before, because it was accompanied by an overwhelming sense of love. The missing piece.

Her gaze dropped to find his eyes on her, searching her face in the low light. He remained still and she laced her fingers through his, seeking connection, letting him see  her tears, unashamed. Without a word he pulled her to him and she went into his arms, burying her face in the warm crook of his neck.

“Tell me a story,” she said with a sniffle.  “About some place you’ve been, something you’ve done.”  His arms tightened around her and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.  She was sure he understood the need to hear his voice, soothing and deep, to calm her racing emotions.

“Well, you know Boston, right?”  She nodded against him.

“I spent a summer there once,” he continued.  “Right out of grad school.”

She kissed his neck. “Maybe we were there at the same time,” she mumbled, oddly comforted that they may have been that close, may have seen the same things without even knowing it.

“You’re probably right.”  His fingertips ran gently up and down her outer arm.

“My roommate in college was from the area and he insisted the best way to spend my first weekend there was for us to pub crawl along the Freedom Trail.  Which, as a young graduate, I definitely saw the merit in.”  Hillary smiled when she felt rather than heard the chuckle from deep in his chest.

“We embarked on a great adventure, starting at Boston Common, to Faneuil Hall, and the site of the Boston Massacre, hitting several pubs all the way, feeling very patriotic and also getting very drunk.”

“What were you drinking?” she interjected.  She wished she could transport herself into the story and be the one spending time with him at that age, fresh and unjaded. 

“Ale of course!” he said with mock incredulity.

“What happened next?”

“Mikey decided we had to go to the oldest tavern in the country,” he said.  “I forget the name now, but I was told I could not leave Boston without visiting.”

“The Bell in Hand!” Hillary exclaimed.  “You haven’t done a pub crawl unless you’ve been to the Bell in Hand.”

“Yes, that’s it!” he remembered. 

“Old place in a weird shaped building?”  Hillary nodded.  “I’ll never forget that. By the time we arrived at the place, we were pretty tanked, but I couldn’t go to America’s oldest tavern without having at least one drink.  Or four.”

“Obviously,” she said.  Her cheek remained pressed into his chest as he continued to talk, and she drew patterns on his bare skin with her fingertips.

“By the third beer, I knew I’d probably overdone it, but good old Mikey insisted on one final round before we closed the place down and I, being the good sport and incredible idiot that I was, said of course.”

Hillary giggled.  “This probably doesn’t end well for you,” she said.

“Yeah, it didn’t.  We staggered out the door together and into the little alley next door, where I promptly vomited on the street and was almost arrested for disorderly conduct.”

“Noooooo,” said Hillary.  “How’d you get yourself out of that one?” 

Bill guffawed.  “Apparently the sweet girl who had been tending bar had developed quite a crush on Mikey and she happened to be closing up when she saw the commotion.  She quickly came over and said I was her cousin from out of town and she’d get me home if the nice officer would consider releasing me into her custody.”  He shook his head a the memory.

“And that story worked?” asked a bemused Hillary.

“Oh yeah,” said Bill.  “Apparently the young lady knew the cop, who always cleaned up drunks off the street at closing time, so he let me go.  I spent that night passed out on her couch while Mikey got lucky.”

“Sounds like you got lucky too,” she pointed out.  “You could have spent the night in the drunk tank!”  

Bill’s laughter shook his shoulders.  “You know what else?  Mikey married that girl!  And I was best man at their wedding.  True story, they’re still together to this day.”

“Did you go to the harbor while you were there?”  she asked almost hopefully, as if she could somehow weave a narrative in which their earlier lives were intertwined.  

“We took a harbor cruise,” he answered.  “But that was about the extent of it.”

Hillary continued, “I used to love spending Saturdays sitting on one of the benches at Long Wharf, watching the planes taking off and landing at Logan. I’d close my eyes and imagine I was on one, being whisked away to some far off place.”  Her voice was wistful but sad.

Bill tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes, his own having adjusted to the dim light in the room.

“Where would you imagine going?”  he asked with a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Anywhere, everywhere,” she answered.  He kissed the corner of her eye, tongue flicking out to lick a salty drop away.  Her tears hadn’t stopped the entire time he’d been talking, but he didn’t have to say anything, his solid presence and steady voice were enough to ground her.  The soft, airy brushes of his lips over her eyes, nose and cheeks were a beautiful and welcome distraction.

He shifted slightly, half on top of her, and the trail of tiny kisses continued from her jawline up to her ear.  “Did you travel alone?”  he asked in a whisper. 

“Mmmm,” she was having trouble concentrating on anything other than his lips on her skin.  “I’d...always...meet a mysterious stranger on my trip,” she finally managed.  His mouth was making it’s way to hers, his kisses taking on a more sensual feeling.  Her melancholy was blossoming into a slow burning arousal, which she was sure was intentional on his part. She continued, “And...mmm...and we’d...fall in love.” 

Bill’s mouth stopped just short of hers, hovering in her space.  His lower body covered hers and her legs automatically parted to allow him access, letting him slide inside her easily, perfectly and to the hilt.  Her eyes dropped shut.

“Did it ever feel like this in your daydreams?” he breathed before he captured her mouth.  His hands moved into her hair to cradle her head as he kissed her fully, tongue slipping between his lips to join with hers.  She moaned into it - she was surrounded by him - over her, in her, against her, and it felt so good, so right.

“Never,” she answered a moment later.

His hips withdrew slowly away from hers, inch by inch until just the tip of his length remained sheathed inside of her.  Her pelvis followed, seeking the hard thickness of him, desperate for the intimacy of being joined. He let himself sink back in, pressing her deeper into the soft mattress, tight warmth enveloping hot steel.  Whimpers and sighs filled the silence of the room.

“Go slow,” she pleaded with her mouth and eyes, tears still running from the corners.  “I don’t want it to end too soon.”  

He repeated the motion over and over, stroking in and out of her yielding body deeply but unhurriedly.  Her back bowed, bringing her breasts more firmly against his chest, and the taut dark nipples scraped through the tiny hairs there. Her face was a mask of pleasure and concentration, brows furrowing and nostrils flaring as she let the sensations roll over her languidly.  Every nerve in her body was slowly coming alive under his ministrations and it was overwhelming her, driving her higher and higher.

“Bill,” she whimpered when he circled his hips and hit her engorged clit.  “Feels so good.”  Her arms went under his and around him, pressing her hands to the small of his back and at the nape of his neck, holding him to her as closely as possible.

“I’m right here Honey,”  The words were a sigh against her damp cheek as he pressed his lips to her.  “God, I can’t get enough of you. I want to stay inside you forever.”  

“Mmmm yeah,” she cried softly.  She was torn between wanting him to never stop and needing him to make her come, to be washed away by the release.

Bill reached a hand down to pinch a tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger causing her hips to buck and a surge of moisture to coat his shaft as he continued to thrust into her.  He groaned at the feeling of himself sliding deeper inside.

“Hill,” he husked.  

“I’m close.”  She moved her hands to the firm cheeks of his ass to guide his movements, encouraging him to pick up the pace with an urgent squeeze.  Bill angled his body slightly away from her and snaked his hand down her abdomen to find her clit, pressing it lightly before moving in a slow circle around it.  

“Yes Bill!  That’s it, please.” she quietly begged.  His touch, taste, smell, everything was coalescing in her, coiling deep in her belly.  Toes curling, muscles tightening and back arching, the dam finally burst and she came, white hot pleasure flowing out from her core to every cell within her. The cries from the back of her throat mirrored the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls.

Bill trembled at the sensation of her coming undone around him, bringing him closer to his own release.  He pushed his hips into and away from hers a few more times while she rode out her climax until it was too much, too intense, and he couldn’t hold it together any longer.  He threw his head back and grunted through his orgasm, coming in bursts into her warm, waiting body.

He went to pull away a moment later and she stopped him, still in need of that connection.  “Don’t go yet,” she pleaded, so he stayed buried deep until he softened and slipped out of her with a sigh.  

“Take me out of town tomorrow,” she whispered against his temple as he lay cradled in her arms.

“Anything you want,” he said simply. "Anything." 

Tbc...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had initially written their day and their night in one chapter, but it got to be way too long, so I'm splitting it up into two. I really wanted them to have a little carefree time before the angsty stuff starts - I hope I've succeeded in that.

They decided to spend the day away from Park Ridge, away from politics and newspaper articles and marriages.  Away from the inescapable “end”.

Bill’s little rental car zipped down the interstate, carrying them closer to their destination. When he had suggested starting at Great America, she had initially balked.  Spending the day fighting crowds at an amusement park was usually not her cup of tea, but his boyish excitement and the idea of doing something out of character for her had finally won over and now, as they neared the exit, she found herself actually looking forward to it.  

It had been years since she’d visited, and since Henry was old enough now to come on his own, she had no reason to go.  The thought of spending time with Bill alone, even among throngs of people set her heart aflutter.  She wanted to pretend, at least for one day, that they were a normal couple doing something fun and spur-of-the-moment instead of two star crossed lovers whose lives were destined to end up in different directions.  She had to shake her head to clear the ugly thoughts.

Bill’s hand rested gently on her thigh as he drove and she took it in both of hers, caressing the tender skin of his wrist with her thumb, enjoying the freedom to touch him and be touched by him.  He looked over at her and smiled and she returned it, suddenly thankful for every second she got to be in his presence.

 

*****

 

They rode rides, played games and stuffed their faces full of greasy food without a care in the world.  

Bill had beat the odds and managed to win her a large green stuffed animal by knocking over a stack of milk bottles with a softball, gloating that he’d found the trick after years of practicing at county fairs around Arkansas.  He had presented it to her with a flourish, and she had accepted it with a giggle, sweet and uncharacteristic.  

They had meandered hand in hand around the perimeter of the park until Bill spotted a photo booth and pulled her excitedly towards it.  Their first photo was them, all smiles facing the camera, arms around shoulders.  Then making stupid, silly faces for the second.  The third found them staring lovingly into each other’s eyes before she whispered “Kiss me” and their lips crushed together as the camera flashed for the fourth time.  Hillary stared happily at the finished photostrip, tucking it into her purse like a treasure.  Tangible, visible proof that these last few days hadn’t all just been a dream.

Throughout the day, Bill had tried everything to get her to go on one of the many rollercoasters scattered throughout the park, and Hillary had flat-out refused every time.  He had begged, then teased, then finally given up in the face of her steadfast refusal.  “I don’t do rollercoasters,” had been her stock answer.

Finally, as they were about to leave the park, the last looming steel coaster had dawned before them.  

“Last chance,” said Bill.  Hillary crossed her arms and shook her head.  “We’ve been over this, I don’t do rollercoasters,” she said with a small smile.

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.  “Live a little, Honey,” he pleaded.  She wasn’t sure why those words had affected her so, but she had to swallow the lump in her throat and avert her eyes from his to stop the tears from overflowing.  “Alright,” she croaked with a nod.  She didn’t want to look back on this day and regret any part of it.

Now, as they moved closer to the front of the line, Hillary’s nerves began to get the better of her.  And not just when she thought about agreeing to go on that steel death trap they were waiting for, but as the day had wore on, reality had begun to dawn on her.  He was really leaving in a few days, and she had no idea how she was going to go on existing.  It was almost as if she didn’t remember the person she had been before she met him, like she was living another life and the thought of that ending was starting to make her feel more and more despondent.

His arms wrapped around her waist from behind, chin resting on her shoulder and mouth at her ear.  “You’re going to love this, I promise,” he said.

Hillary rested her hands over his and turned her disbelieving eyes up to look at him. “If I die on this thing, I’m coming back to haunt you, just remember that.” 

Bill’s hearty chuckle reverberated in his chest and she could feel the rumble against her back.  “You’re already haunting me Honey,” he whispered close to her.

“I mean it Bill-,” she began but stopped when he gripped her tighter and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“Think of it like the best parts of being in love all compressed into 45 seconds.  Apprehension in the beginning, then that drop in your stomach, a sense of weightlessness and a rush of tingling feeling.  It’s poetic, really.”  He almost had her convinced with his sweet words. Almost.

“Don’t forget the part about throwing up.  Because that’s also likely to happen,” she quipped.

“Do you trust me?” he asked seriously.

“You know I do,” she answered.  

“Good, then we’re up.”  She’d failed to notice they had been slowly moving during their entire conversation and now were perilously close to being next.  Hillary took a deep, shuddering breath as the last of the people in front of them at the gate were ushered to their seats.  Before she even had time to change her mind and back out of it, the screams of the riders had died down and the train was pulling back into the loading area.  This was it. 

“Come on, Hill.”  The metal gate had opened, allowing them entrance and he gently took her hand and brought her in front of him, practically pushing her toward her chair and helping her up into it.  Her heart was hammering in her ears and her stomach was churning as the padded harness clicked down over her shoulders and secured between her legs.  Her hands came around and gripped the handles with white knuckles. 

The floor descended under their feet, leaving their legs dangling and Hillary’s nervousness skyrocketing.  Her grip tightened as the train pulled out and began it’s slow ascent up the chain lift...click click clicking in time to Hillary’s pounding heart.  She looked over at Bill, who was watching her with keen interest, and he pried one of her hands off of the handles and took it in his as they got to the top of the first hill.  

“Here we go,” he said with a smile, just as the train dipped and coasted then swooped downward to the left.  

Hillary screamed.  She screamed as loud as her lungs would allow.  It was primal, born of anger, frustration and sadness, but also of elation and of love, pure and deep.  Every emotion in her heart poured out between her parted lips until she had to gasp for breath.  The coaster looped and flipped and rolled and still she screamed, voice ragged and raw.  Bill’s hand squeezed hers, tethering her to him even as they spiraled downward and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.  She squeezed back and opened her eyes, watching as her world literally turned upside down and then righted itself, so much like Bill’s earlier metaphor.

The train came to a halt and she looked over at him, flushed and breathless and smiling.  “You did it,” he whispered, eyes sparkling.  

He held her hand in his as they wound their way through the exit and when they got just outside the ride he stopped short, turning to her.  

“Well?” he asked. 

She was crackling with adrenaline and undisguised emotion, smiling as she launched herself into his arms and kissed him with everything she had.  Winding her arms around his neck, neither seemed to care that they were standing in the middle of a crowded place, people streaming by around them.  She eased out of the kiss and cupped his rough cheeks in her soft hands.  “Like being in love,” she whispered.

 

*****

 

Bill lay perched on his elbow on the blanket with Hillary beside him.  On the recommendation of his friend Dale, they found themselves at a park a few towns over from Park Ridge, where every Wednesday there was a concert series.  The strains of a local jazz band played and as the sun went down they had shared a bottle of wine and were now feeling the pleasant hum of it in their veins.  He caressed the softness of her hair as she looked up at him with dreamy eyes.

She looked so beautiful in the last bit of daylight, cheeks pink from the day in the sun, hair fanned out around her and eyes bright.  He wanted to remember her like that forever, so happy, so _his._ He leaned down and kissed her with a smile, prying open her soft lips with his, slipping his tongue inside ever so briefly.  Just a taste.  Too soon he pulled away.

“That sax player is good,” commented Bill.  “You know I’ve played since I was in Elementary School.”

She fiddled with the buttons of his polo shirt.  “Really?  I bet you’re good too. Tell me about your childhood.  What were you like as a kid?” she asked.

“Trouble,” he answered with a tight smile.  

She looked far off, like she was trying to picture him as a child, what he must have been like down there in Arkansas. 

Her eyes returned to him.  “Why were you trouble?”  She linked her fingers with his.

“I had a temper,” he began.  “When I finally got big enough to wield some power, I used it to stop the beatings in my house. I had to protect my mother and brother.” 

Hillary felt him grip her hand tighter, reliving the painful memory.  

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “Your mother was lucky to have you.  Were you two very close?” 

He knew what she was doing.  “I don’t know if I can do this Hillary,” he said, eyes searching hers.

“Do what?” 

“I don’t know if I can fit a lifetime in between now and Friday.”

His words were like a physical blow, stealing her breath for a second and causing her throat to ache.  

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.  

Hillary rolled away from him and sat up, hugging her knees, staring in the direction of the small stage and willing the tears to stop before they turned into a deluge.  He said nothing but pulled her against him so she sat between his open legs, her back to his front.  She leaned into his chest silently, eyes closed, hands on his bent knees.  There was nothing to say so they let the music wash over them, wishing for a moment that it wasn’t another day closer to the end, to when he would leave and take a part of her with him.

tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's not a lot of plot here, sorry. Next chapter, promise.

She stood in the partially open door and watched his reflection in the mirror.  The steam from the shower had fogged up the bottom half of the glass door, but she could make out his glistening upper body, the way he tipped his head back and closed his eyes as the shampoo ran down over his shoulders and swirled into the drain below.  He looked serene, relaxed, beautiful.  She had the overwhelming need to be near him.

His eyes opened when he heard the shower door click shut behind her.  He looked her up and down, eyes roaming over her body unashamedly. 

“Hi,” she said softly. She appeared small and vulnerable and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, skin to skin.

“Hi,” he replied.   

Her gaze was intense, locked on his when she spoke.  “I’m in love with you,” she began.  “And I don’t know what to do about it.”  

Dew drops of moisture had started to cling to her crown and her eyelashes where she stood just outside the spray of water and Bill thought how tragically beautiful she looked. How he’d do anything to take that uncertainty out of her eyes.  He went to speak, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I wanted you to know.”  

She stepped closer under the water and stood on her tiptoes, mouth to his ear, hand trailing down his abdomen to his soft cock and cupping him gently.  “I want you,” she whispered as she circled him with her fingers and stroked slowly, feeling him start to harden in her hand.  

“Baby,” he groaned.

He tilted her chin up to press his mouth to hers in a heated kiss, made slippery by the cascading water, but when she felt his hand start to move toward her center, she pulled out of it.

“Later,” she husked, pumping him harder.  “This time is for you.”

Hillary guided him against the wall and fell to her knees before him, ringing her fingers around the base and licking along the vein on the underside all the way up to the tip, which she engulfed in her warm wet mouth.  She swirled her tongue around it for a moment until she felt the trickle of pre-cum hit it, then relaxed her throat muscles and swallowed the entire length, hard and thick.  

“God Hillary,” he panted.

Bill slapped one palm flat against the tile and and rested his other on her head, not pushing but helping to keep them connected.  She continued to suck him, creating a tight vacuum with her lips and tongue, driving him closer and closer to the edge.  Her other hand massaged his balls, already tightening under her ministrations.  The sight of her on her knees pleasuring him with her mouth, steamy water pouring down on her naked body, was almost too much for Bill and he had to close his eyes to keep from coming too soon.  His hips began to thrust more forcefully against her but she kept at it, relentless.  When he looked down and saw her looking up at him from under those dewy lashes, he couldn’t take it anymore.  His rhythm faltered and he took in a breath.

“Oh God I’m gonna come Honey,” he said, frantically trying to pry her off of him, but she sucked and pressed harder, milking every last drop of his salty essence as he came down her throat.  

With one hand on his heaving chest, he offered her the other to help her up, pulling her straight into a sloppy kiss and tasting himself on her tongue.  She hummed into it, thoroughly aroused at having just brought him release, now ready to take her own.

“That was incredible.”  He reached over to turn off the now-cooling water, pushing her toward the door.  “Let’s go to bed so I can thank you properly.”  His voice was low and rough with sex and she shivered.  

On the bed, Hillary was already on edge, swollen and needy for him in a way she didn’t think she’d ever felt.  It was primal, animalistic.  When Bill laid over her and started kissing her neck softly, reverently, she grabbed him by the hair on top of his head and forced him to look her in the eye.  She struggled to find the words to convey what it was she wanted and needed from him.

“Bill, I-” she began.  Her breath was already hitching and she had to shake her head to clear her racing thoughts.

“Tell me what you need.”  

“Make me yours,” she breathed.  She was practically writhing against him, pleading with her body for him to take her, hot and hard.

“I want to look in the mirror and see evidence of you on my skin, to remember what you felt like moving inside me after you’ve gone.  Help me not to forget,” she implored.

“Shhhhh.”  He pressed his thumb against her lips and she sucked the tip into her trembling mouth then took it between her teeth.

“First I want to love you,” he said, seeking affirmation in her eyes. “Then I’m going to fuck you like you’ll never forget.”  She whimpered and nodded, too shaken from his words to form a coherent thought.  He seemed to have no trouble understanding what it was she was trying to say.

Bill slowly and lovingly brought her to orgasm with his fingers and his mouth in tandem, playing over all of her erogenous zones like an instrument until she was bucking beneath him, soaking his mouth and chin with the fruits of his labor.  When he finally crawled up her flushed and sweaty body a few moments later, her tension was palpable.  

“Get on your knees Honey,” he commanded quietly.

On her knees facing the headboard, she felt Bill get on his own behind her and press into her buttocks, his now-hard cock slipping into the gap between her thighs. His hand skirted up the line of her spine to tangle in her golden tresses and he tugged firmly so she turned toward him.  Her face was a mask of need and desire and Bill felt himself harden further than he thought possible.  He bent lower and angled himself so he was poised to enter her. 

His lips hovered next to hers and she tried to close the gap but he pulled away a fraction.  “Huh uh,” he teased, shaking his head slightly.  “Close your eyes.  Feel every inch of me as I push inside,” he said seductively.  She nodded ever so slightly, a soft whine falling from her parted lips. It ended in a sharp inhalation of breath when he took his cock in hand and slipped just the tip between her cheeks to dip into her glistening entrance.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his thick, hard length as it was engulfed by her slick walls.  One forceful thrust and the blunted head of his cock rammed her, so incredibly powerful she had to bite her lip to stifle a scream.

Bill’s hand tightened in her hair and he held her in place while he brought his lips to her ear, biting the lobe as his breath fanned her. 

“Remember this, Hillary.  My hands in your hair, my words in your ear.  The taste of me in your mouth. Tell me no one’s ever been this goddamned deep inside you, fucking you like this.”  

“No one,” she answered in a whisper.

“Tell me no one ever will,” he demanded, pulling her lips toward his by the hair clenched in his fist.

“Never,” she sobbed.  “Never.”

He kissed her hard and rough, jabbing his tongue past her teeth and sucking forcefully when he felt hers tangle with it.  It was desperate and raw and she returned it with equal fervor, moaning wantonly into his mouth.  He was slowly laying claim to every part of her, possessing her like she had begged him to and it felt so good, so all-consuming and so devastating at the same time.

For emphasis, he pulled out almost completely and plunged back in and she cried out in absolute, unadulterated pleasure, hand shooting out toward the wall to steady herself.  He moved his mouth from her lips to her shoulder and bit down hard, not quite breaking the skin but enough where she knew it would leave a mark.  His mark.

“Say you’re mine,” he grunted.  “Please Baby.”

She brought her arm up to hold the back of his head, mirroring their positions.  “Yesss...I’m yours...” Her words were raspy and staccato and she was having trouble getting them out.   Everything he said and every move he made was robbing her of thought and reason.

He continued to thrust hips over and over while his tongue soothed at the teeth marks, a balm to the already bruised and abraded skin.  His other hand wound around her waist and slid downward. Dipping between the swollen lips, he parted two fingers around his shaft and coated them with their combined juices, then dragged them back up to Hillary’s engorged clit, teasing and circling.  She didn’t know how much longer she could take it, the ache inside of her was almost unbearable - he was swirling around her clit with his finger and battering her g-spot with the tip of his cock and breathing hotly against her neck and shoulder and she thought she would die from sheer sensory overload.

“Harder,” she begged.  “Please...please I need to come, Bill!”

Bill grabbed her hair tighter and used it for leverage as he slammed into her again and again, his sweat-slicked chest sliding easily against her equally damp back.

“No,” he said.  “Not yet Baby, let it build.  It’ll be so good.”

He stilled a moment and she pushed back into him, desperate for friction, desperate for release.  He started to move in short bursts and she sobbed in frustration, trying futilely to shift her hips and force him to thrust harder, but he was defiant.  The more she writhed, the stiller he went.

“Not...yet...I...said...” He punctuated each word with a stab of his cock, causing Hillary to whimper and cry continuously.  “Give me your hand,” he said, reaching for the hand that she had curled around his neck.  He took it in his and brought their joined hands down between her legs, guiding her fingers to part around his cock where it was moving in and out of her depths.

“Feel this,” he breathed in her ear.  “This is us. Together. So fucking amazing.”  

“Mmmm God, Bill,” she whined.  The eroticism of his words, the sensation of him slipping deliciously through her fingers and disappearing into her body, it was making her crazy.  He dragged their tangled fingers up to rub her clit again, together, and her walls began to tighten and swell around him.

“Shit you feel so damned tight,” he groaned.  “You ready to come Honey? I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.”

“Please. Please,” she whimpered.  

Bill pressed her forward so she bent over the headboard, shifting her hips up slightly, changing the angle so he slid in even deeper, fist still clenched in her hair.  He untangled his fingers from hers where they were moving at her clit, coming around to grip the headboard tightly.

“Keep touching yourself,” he commanded.

His rhythm increased in speed and intensity, sweat running down his face and body, dripping onto her back as he hammered into her fiercely.  Their cries and the creaking of the mattress echoed around the room.  

“That’s it Baby, so close.”  He strained to get the words out through his clenched teeth.

Hillary’s body was burning. Sweaty and sticky and tingly, she could feel the heat radiating off her in waves.  The flutters started deep inside - one, two, then she was coming, clenching so incredibly hard around Bill’s cock that he gasped and let out a string of expletives it felt so fucking good.   

“Oh God,” she sobbed over and over as Bill continued to move inside of her.  Every muscle in her body tensed as the orgasm went on and on until finally all of the tension rushed out of her and she leaned into the wall for support, completely spent.  

“Fuck, you feel incredible. I’m gonna come so hard.”  He was panting now, thighs straining, back arching and eyes screwed shut.  The aftershocks of her release shivered around him and he felt his balls tighten, preparing.  Hillary mustered up the strength to begin a quick counter-rhythm, pushing her ass back into him as hard as she could until he stiffened behind her.

“Coming,” he managed, letting out a series of grunts as he pumped his hot seed into her in spurts.  He felt it trickle around him and out of their still joined bodies, coating Hillary’s inner thighs, warm and viscous.  

He slipped out of her with a sigh and collapsed onto the bed backwards, pulling Hillary down and into his arms.  She snuggled into his side and threw her leg over his and their lower bodies tangled lazily together.

“Unforgettable?” he asked hopefully, still catching his breath, kissing the drenched top of her hair.

“Christ,” she husked in response.  “That was just what I needed.”

Neither said another word, instead they let their hands wander softly and gently over damp, cooling skin - memorizing, healing.  At some point, she didn’t remember when, they had turned and slipped under the covers, Bill wrapping himself around her back, cocooning her safely until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Thursday loomed.

tbc...


	8. Chapter 8

Thursday brought with it a shift in mood.  No more able to deny her husband and son would be returning the following day, Hillary found herself feeling angry.  At what exactly, she wasn’t sure.  Was she angry with herself for falling in love with Bill?  Was she angry at Bill for coming into her life at a time when it was impossible to be with him?  At Andrew and Henry for not staying away and giving her just a little while longer with him?  She couldn’t say, but anger and frustration were the only emotions she seemed to be able to muster that morning at breakfast.

She flitted around, serving eggs and toast, getting more coffee, anything to busy herself from the agitation that was sparking through her, filling the silence in her kitchen.  She stood at the stove staring at the back of his head, wanting to say something but not knowing what.

“Tell me something,” she finally managed as she sat down across from him at the table.  The length of it loomed between them.  She had an edge in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed and he looked up from his plate.  “What’s that?” he asked.

“How does this work?  I mean, do we ever see each other again?  Or do you go away, back down to Arkansas and forget this ever happened?  How does it normally go for you?”  Her question was intended to bristle, and it did just that.

“What do you mean? Do you think this is some sort of common occurrence?” he asked, incredulous.

“Well, what is it?” she shot back.  She couldn’t quite keep the waver out of her voice.  

He put his coffee cup down, gently but purposefully. “You tell me, Hillary. You’re the one who’s married with no intention of leaving your husband. The one who’s currently running a campaign that you can’t and won’t abandon.”  His words were low, but his eyes were boring into hers, challenging.

“What for?  To follow you home like a lovesick puppy?”  He winced and she felt a stab of guilt.  Why was she acting like this?

“Don’t do this please,” he implored.  He didn’t want it to be this way, their last day with each other, spent unravelling everything they’d woven together the last few days.

She couldn’t help it.  She didn’t know how to get through this without making him feel a tiny bit of the ache she felt in the pit of her stomach.  She hated herself for it.

“I have to sit here after you’re gone, day after fucking day, wondering what happened to me, if it ever even happened at all.  And wondering if maybe someday you’ll be sitting in some other woman’s kitchen, sharing pieces of yourself with her while I slowly slip from your mind.”  

She slammed her napkin down and pushed her chair away from the table loudly, pacing the floor from sink to table and back again.

“Stop this right now,” he quietly demanded.

She turned and looked him dead in the eye.  “Fine,” she said, throwing up her hands.  “Would you like more eggs or should we just fuck on the kitchen table?  You know, once more for old times sake?!”  She turned away again and covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob.  

“How is this so easy for you?” she asked in a whisper.  Her back was to him but he heard the raw emotion in her voice.

“You have no idea what this is like for me!,” he shouted, bolting out of the chair to follow her movements. “I don’t want to feel this way.”  Softer this time, his words stopped her in her tracks.

“What _way_? Why can’t you just say it?!? ”

His face contorted into a mask of anguish, of longing.  “What difference does it make?  How does pouring my heart out make it any easier to pack up and walk out of this place knowing that I’ll probably never seen you again? What’s the fucking point Hillary?” He blinked furiously, attempting to stave off the tears that were pooling in the corners of his eyes.  Walking over to the sink, he placed his hands down on the edge, eyes far away, staring out the window.

All of the fire in her veins seemed to dissipate and she took a shaky breath then walked toward him with a sigh, hovering at his back but not touching.

“Please Bill, I need to know.”  He said nothing but she saw his shoulders slump as if the weight of the world was on them.  Her hand ached to soothe him but suddenly she felt she didn’t have the right.  

He turned to her, letting the mask slip, open and vulnerable.  “I’m sorry.”

Hillary ducked her own head to meet his eyes.  “For what?”  

“I should have told you last night. In the shower,” he rasped.  “When you said you were in love with me, I should have said it back, but I don’t know how to do this.  I don’t know how to love someone so much and leave them. I...I...” his voice broke and those precarious tears finally spilled over his lower lashes, chasing each other down his cheeks until they dripped off his jaw and onto his shirt.

“Tell me now.”  

“I love you,” he said simply.  And yet, there was nothing simple about it.  

The words she’d wanted to hear so badly now felt like a noose around her neck, choking her, robbing her of life.  So unfair.  She stared at him, completely bereft as reality began to edge out the fantasy they’d been living in.

Fisting her hands in his shirt, she let out a wail, raw pain bubbling up from her toes and out of her parted lips.  “What are we going to do?” she cried.  Bill kissed her desperately, hoping an answer would come to him if he just stalled long enough, hoping if not, he could find a way to make that moment last a lifetime.  

The ringing of the doorbell jolted them out of it like a shot.

“Shit,” she said frantically.  “Where’s your car?” 

“We parked in your garage last night, remember?” he whispered.   The doorbell rang again and she sprang into action.  

“Just a minute!” she yelled, scrabbling to clear all the extra breakfast dishes and pile them in the sink.

“What should I do?” He was trapped and for the first time since they’d started this, he felt like he didn’t belong there, with her.  That was all too clear by the way she was ushering him toward the stairs.

“Wait for me upstairs.”  She waited for him to round the corner at the top of the stairs before pulling the door open to reveal her campaign chair, looking slightly exasperated.  

“Maddie?  What are you doing here?” 

Madeline Thompson was nothing if not direct.  Seventy-two and still taking no shit from anyone, she looked Hillary up and down once with a critical eye and then pushed past her into the room and onward toward the den, taking a seat in the armchair.  Hillary sat stiffly on the couch. 

“Well, we were supposed to talk last night to go over your schedule for the campaign walk on Sunday, but you weren’t answering your phone,” Maddie said tersely.  “And also, you look like shit, are you okay?”  

Hillary tugged at the lapels of her robe self consciously.  “Thanks Maddie,” she said with  a chuckle.  “I’m sorry, I completely blanked on last night’s phone call.”  

Where could she say she was that wouldn’t raise suspicion?  

“I was out later than expected and I didn’t check my messages, sorry.”  She hoped that would suffice.  

Maddie looked skeptical but for once, she kept her mouth shut. “Ok Hillary, no big deal.  Here’s the map of the walk I wanted to go over with you.  We’ll be starting out here..” 

Maddie pointed to a red dot that denoted the park where Hillary would begin with a short speech, then followed the dotted trail along the map to the Xs that marked the local shops she’d be heading into and finally the green dot where she’d end up.  Another coffee shop like the one she’d visited a few days ago when Bill had observed her, another park like the one they’d been to the night before.  Maddie had continued to talk but Hillary had stopped listening, wrapped up in her own thoughts.

“...Hillary, what the hell is going on?” Maddie asked with a hint of annoyance. “You’re a million miles away.  Are you sure you’re alright?”  The concern in her voice and in her normally steely blue eyes was what finally snapped Hillary out of it.

Hillary sighed and put her hand to her forehead, rubbing absently.  “I guess I’m not feeling that great,” she said, and it wasn’t a falsehood.  She was heartsick, and it was clouding her thoughts.  Truthfully, she didn’t care about campaign stops or anything else, her only thought was getting back upstairs to Bill, and the intensity of that was overwhelming her. 

Maddie’s face softened a fraction and she fluffed her snow-white bob, then got up and walked over to where Hillary was sitting on the couch.  She put a cool hand to Hillary’s forehead.  “No fever,” she said.  “I’m going to go and let you lay down.  I need you rested for Sunday.”

Hillary breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thanks.”  

“You want me to walk you upstairs?  Tuck you in?” Maddie’s stained lips quirked in a small smile, which fell when Hillary blanched. 

“No no, that’s okay Maddie, I can make it.  But thanks!” She tried hard to inject a note of cheeriness to her voice, which even to her own ears sounded hollow.  Maddie’s silver brows furrowed momentarily but she stepped out of the way to follow Hillary to the door.

“I’m just tired, I’m sure.  You know I don’t sleep when Henry and Andrew aren’t here.  They’ll be back tomorrow and I’m sure I’ll feel much better.  I’ll be fine by Sunday.”   She tried not to let herself think about what utter nonsense that statement was, instead focusing on placating Maddie and getting her the hell out of the house.

“Okay Dear,” Maddie said, placing a soft palm against Hillary’s cheek.  “Take it easy.  Call me tomorrow evening so we can go over the final details, okay?”  

Hillary nodded and managed a half-hearted smile, which seemed to be all she could muster.  Inside she was screaming.  By tomorrow night this all would be over and she’d be alone again, adrift.  She swallowed hard.

“Will do,” she croaked.  “Talk to you then.”

She closed the door on Maddie’s retreating form, waiting to hear the turn of her engine and the sound of her car getting fainter, then with a calming breath she headed up the stairs.

Bill was in the center of the bed with his arm thrown over his eyes, his body tense.  She melted into his side without a word, rolling half on top of him and twining her legs with his.  He secured her with a hand at her waist and brought his other hand to her chin, tipping it up so she was looking in his eyes.

“Come with me,” he said.

“What? Just leave?  What about-”

“Leave it all, Hillary, be with me.  Please.”  His grip tightened, his eyes begged and Hillary felt herself being pulled in, unable to say yes but unwilling to say no.

tbc..


	9. Chapter 9

“Wait!” she cried.

Her suitcases were packed, the life she had every intention of leaving behind, stuffed haphazardly into seven cubic feet of space and sitting by the doorway.  Plane ticket purchased, one way.  Note scrawled on lined paper, an explanation to her family, to her constituents, to everyone who’d be left in her wake, sitting on the hallway table.

Now though, as they were about to walk out the door, she stopped him.

“I forgot something,” she said.  “I’ll just be a minute.”

From the moment Bill had said ‘Come with me’ her focus had been singular and all-consuming.  She had to keep him, _them,_ no matter what the cost.  

“I’ll be in the car,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze before she headed up the stairs.

She’d thought of it while she was packing, the pocket watch her grandfather had given her as a young woman, knowing then that she wanted to give it to him. To commemorate the start of their new life together.  But in her haste to wrap up the loose ends, she’d forgotten to get it and now she felt it would be a bad omen to leave without it. If such things existed.

Opening her jewelry box she quickly located the watch when something at the bottom of the drawer caught her eye.  A bracelet of multi-colored beads, strung together by hand and given to her by an adorable six year old girl, a thank you for making the library “fun again.”  She fingered it with a smile and decided on a whim to put it on, feeling something start to shift in her, though not sure what.

Down the stairs she went, the walls seeming to close in on her as she took a last look at her surroundings. Henry’s second grade photo, with his toothless grin and freckled face, the baseball from his first home run, encased in glass on the living room shelf, her wedding photo, she and Andrew so young but never truly happy. The map of the campaign walk Maddie had brought her, abandoned on the coffee table on her way up to see Bill earlier.  Everywhere she looked, the pieces of her life assaulted her.

Suddenly the panic began to rise.  Her palms began to sweat and her heart began to race and she knew in that moment that she couldn’t go through with it, couldn’t leave this way.  Especially not Henry. What would he think of her?  She sank down onto the bottom step with her head in her hands, overcome with a despair she’d never felt before.  

Bill found her that way a few minutes later and he knew too. Knew it was the end.  He sat beside her on the step.  She pressed the pocket watch into his hand and closed his fingers around it.

“I want you to have this,” she sniffed. “It belonged to my grandfather, a gift from my grandmother.”  Bill looked at the watch in his palm, turning it over as Hillary continued, “He always had it on him.  Said it reminded him of her, even when she wasn’t there.”  Her eyes were downcast, staring at her feet.

“You’re not coming with me are you?” he asked softly.  

“Bill, I-” she couldn’t get the words out.  His hand reached for hers like a lifeline.

“Tell me why,” he prodded.

“Henry, the campaign, I can’t just walk away,” she said softly.  “It’s not fair.”

“Henry’s almost out of the house,” he said.  “What happens when he’s gone?  Do you keep living this life?  A life devoid of love and affection? And even if you win the election, can you truly be happy? You and I could be,together.”

She squeezed his hand and turned to face him.  “Henry needs a mother, and I can’t destroy him by leaving.  He’s seventeen, he’s got a lot to figure out in his life but why his mother abandoned him shouldn’t be one of those things.  And you know as well as I do that everything changes once we leave here.  Once reality sets in.  And I don’t want that Bill.  I want to love you like this forever, not end up resentful.”

He was desperate now, desperate not to have to walk out that door without her or without some assurance that it wasn’t over.

“I’ll be here a couple more days, maybe you’ll change your mind, come to the hotel to find me.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again.  Her throat constricted and her voice cracked.  “If that happens, you have to be strong for me because I can’t do it.  I can’t do it Bill.”

Bill leaned forward and kissed her like a starving man, hands in her hair, tongue invading her mouth for a moment, then softening into the sensual kisses of long-time lovers.  Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers before standing up and heading for the door.  Before he opened it he turned to her.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing Hillary,” he said, voice strained.  “Please don’t forget that.”

And with that, he was gone and she was left to wonder if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

 

*****

She heard the rumble of Andrew’s car pulling up in the driveway and took a nervous breath.  This was it, the return to her normal.  Plastering on a smile she flung the front door open and came down off the porch to greet Henry who was just stepping out of the passenger side of the car.

“Hey Mom,” he said, his 6 foot 1 frame towering over her as he bent to give her a hug. 

“Sweetheart,” she said.  “Welcome home! How’d the rest of the tournament go?”

“All stars!” Henry cried.  “We won! 4-3!”  He picked her up and spun her around, causing her to shriek in surprise.

“That’s fantastic Hen, congratulations.  I wish I could have been there.” 

_If I’d been there, I never would have met him,_ she thought. _Maybe it would have been better that way._

“They played some terrific ball,” Andrew said as he gathered their things from the trunk.  “Hen made a couple of great plays too, sorry you missed it.”  

She looked at her husband, truly looked at him for the first time in a long time.  His dark brown hair had gone salt and pepper, the lines around his green eyes more pronounced.  When had he gotten so old?  Was he suffering through this like she was?  She had always just assumed that since the unconventional nature of their marriage had been his doing, he was fine living that way.  Maybe she’d been wrong.

“Me too Drew,” she said softly, gracing him with a small, sad smile. He looked up at the sound of his nickname, one she hadn’t used in years, and returned it, equally melancholy.  

 

*****

Dinner was an awkward affair, focused mainly on Henry and his team’s win, his plans for visiting colleges and what courses he was taking his Senior year.  When all of those subjects had been exhausted, the room fell quiet again, each occupant left alone to their own thoughts.  Henry finally broke the silence, probably desperate to get away.

“Ummm, is it okay if I take your car for a while Mom?  Dan asked if I wanted to catch a movie tonight.”

Hillary looked up from where she was pushing her mashed potatoes around her plate.  “Sure Hen, you know where the keys are.  Be back by midnight please.”

Henry was already halfway to the hall when he shouted back, “Okay Mom.  See you guys later.”

“Bye Hen,” Andrew called after him with a chuckle.

Now they were alone and Hillary felt anxiety rising in her stomach, the weight of her decision starting to crush her.  How could she stay in a marriage and a home where she didn’t even know how to be in a room with her own husband? Where looking in his direction sparked not a hunger, but the desire to flee?  She thought about Bill, alone in his hotel, preparing to leave in two days time and her throat closed.  She had been right earlier, she couldn’t do this.  

She had no idea what to do or say now.  Needing an escape, she slowly began to back out of the kitchen. “I have some campaign work I need to look over,” she lied.  “I think I’ll take it up to my room.”

“Goodnight Hillary.”  

“Goodnight Andrew.”  

She beat a hasty retreat out the door and up the stairs, closing her bedroom door behind her, sinking to the ground in front of it with her head on her knees.  

What had she done?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post...the angst has killed me.

Hair - done, but not overly done. Outfit - dressy, but not too dressy. Color scheme - not too bright but not too dark.  Shoes - practical, but not dowdy.  Makeup - soft, but flattering.  All of Maddie’s “tips” were running through Hillary’s head as she stood in front of the mirror.  She briefly wondered if her running mate was treated to the same barrage of preparation instructions, or whether he had the good fortune to be able to roll out of bed and slip on a shirt and tie, comb his hair and walk out the door.  The double standard was irksome.

Hillary surveyed her reflection. She looked tired, tired and drawn.  For as much as she had looked forward to running for Mayor and throwing herself into this campaign, this particular morning she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than forlorn. And try as she might to keep her emotions in check, the fact that Bill would be leaving was crushing her, heart and soul.

Slipping off her robe with a sigh, her eyes were immediately drawn downward to the curve of her shoulder. The impression his teeth had made, still visible, its purple hue a deep contrast to her fair skin.  Her head tilted and she ran her fingers over the abrasion, slightly raised and tender to the touch.  Eyes closing, the memories of that night flooded her senses  - maybe if she concentrated hard enough she could feel his lips on her skin, his body pressed against hers, wrapping her in its warmth.  But it was no use, he was already slipping away, leaving behind a dull, physical ache.  How would she ever get through this?

 

*****

The darkness that had descended over her mood seemed to be reflected in the weather, gray and overcast, as she and her team made their way to the first stop on the walk. The small stage stood in the middle of the green. The podium had been set, affixed with a logo of blue and white, bearing her name:  _Hillary Rodham for Mayor - Your Voice in Park Ridge._

“You’ll come from that direction,” Maddie said, pointing toward a bank of trees and bringing her out of her reverie.  “Make sure to wave and smile as you come up the steps, stop stage right, then cross stage left before heading to the podium.  Your speech will be there waiting for you.  Greet the audience and welcome them, then start your remarks.  You’ve got about 30 minutes after you finish to shake hands and rub elbows before it’s on to the next stop.  Got it?”

Hillary nodded. “Got it,” she affirmed. She could do this. She was meant to do this. Squaring her shoulders, she tugged on her pale yellow blazer to straighten it, taking a deep cleansing breath and letting it out slowly. She pictured her time with Bill, wonderful and sweet, their love for one another, and then pictured herself packing up the snapshots of their relationship and putting them in a box.  Closing her eyes, she saw herself shutting that box and putting it on a shelf just out of reach, to be tended to at another time, a time when she could let all of her feelings out.  Right now was not that time. 

With the box tucked away, she tried to look at her surroundings with different eye. The sun was even peeking through the gray haze, lifting her spirits and buoying her resolve.  A smile graced her lips. Yes, perhaps she could do this after all. 

 

*****

Hillary looked over the gathered crowd with a genuine smile.  Faces of those she knew and those she didn’t, looking to her, supporting her, lifting her up.

“Good morning!” she shouted to the audience.  The response was boisterous. 

“ _It’s great to look out here and see so many faces. I see my family. I see my friends, business leaders, legislators, councilors. It just makes me so proud to call Park Ridge my home. When people ask what it is that makes me love Park Ridge so much, the answer absolutely without a doubt is you, so thank you!”_  

She paused and the crowd applauded, some of them waiving campaign signs, some sporting buttons emblazoned with her likeness. She looked out to see a little girl on her Dad’s shoulders and her smile widened. 

 _“I know that while you’re here to show your support for me and our campaign for Mayor, the real reason that you’re here is because like me you love this city and you know we can continue to build on the progress my friend Mayor Abbot has made. But to continue that progress, we must do it together!”_   More applause. Her spirits were raising, little by little.

 _“Park Ridge is a community. It’s a gathering of the incredible people we see here today. And Park Ridge is our home and home to me has never been just the place where I live. Home to me is Andrew...”_ She paused, taking a deep breath and swallowing.These words sat bitter in her mouth but she pushed through, continuing.  

 _“...The guy that I met 35 years ago in a Sophomore Trigonometry class. We didn’t know it then, but circumstances would bring me back to Park Ridge years later and our paths would cross again, and now he’s been my husband for 17 years.”_   She smiled in his direction, putting on the show she knew the crowd needed. 

 _“And home to us is Henry, our son, who has grown up here, gone through school here. You know, the day that Henry was born, Andrew and I made a commitment that all parents make. A commitment to make our child’s life the best we could possibly make it. A commitment to make sure we were always thinking about his tomorrow. And today, together, let’s make another commitment: a commitment to make Park Ridge a city where all children can realize their dreams, whatever they may be....”_   

Her eyes locked with her son, front and center, face bright and proud. Her reason for breathing. She beamed at him, focusing on his energy as she delivered the rest of her speech.

 _“...And at the end of the day, that’s what this campaign is all about. It’s about tomorrow, not today. It’s about our children, not us. It’s about everyday, working hard, taking responsibility and inching closer to a city where all of our children prosper. So today I ask you, will you join me in that journey?”_ The audience erupted and she raised her hands in triumph. _“Then let us begin! Thank You!”_

 

*****

A slight drizzle had begun as they walked down the main street toward The Bird’s Nest Cafe, covering her hair and clothing in a fine mist.  The sun had hidden itself behind the clouds again, shrouding the area in gray, blotting out the buoyant feeling she’d been experiencing the last few hours and replacing it with...exhaustion.  Like she’d been keeping up appearances for far longer than she was capable and now she was ready to go home and let it all out.  Unpack that box and cry until she had no tears left.  One more hour and she could give in.

Hillary was thankful when the crowd began to thin out, hoping to beat the storm that had been slowly brewing all afternoon. Just a few patrons remained, along with her team.  She had shaken every hand, tried to talk to every person in the place if only for a moment and she felt good about the message she had gotten out.  But now she needed to decompress.

The thunderclap startled her and she looked toward the sound, scanning the horizon.  What had started as a mist as they entered the cafe was now a full blown torrent, falling in sheets over the town and blurring her view through the foggy window in front of her.  She stirred her coffee absently, adding cream and sugar from the coffee bar, swirling it round and round with the stirrer until she was satisfied that every grain of sugar had dissolved. She let the warmth of the cup seep into her hands.

She was about to walk away when another loud bang caused her to glance up again, watching as the river of water seemed to part, offering her a look outside, unobscured.  Her gasp was audible. Her hand shook so hard that coffee splashed over the top of the cup and scalded her skin, but she didn’t care.  Just across the street, leaning on his car, stood Bill.  She had no idea how much time had passed but still he stood, hair drenched and plastered to his head, wet clothes clinging heavily to his body.  She swiped at the foggy window, making a streak of clear glass to get a better look at him and her throat clenched.  A look of hopeful anguish masked his face as he stared at her and she was sure it matched her own.

Slowly, as if she had no power over them, her legs carried her toward the door, her eyes desperately trying to convey to him from a distance what her words couldn’t.  He moved into the street, rain pouring down around him, dripping off of his chin and his elbows like tears. Her eyes fell to his hand where it clenched something inside and she could just make out the chain of her grandfather’s pocket watch hanging from the belt loop.  Reminding him of her, even when she wasn’t there.

Hillary’s hand went to the handle of the door, her throat so tight she could barely swallow, her heart hammering out of her chest.  The metal was a cool contrast to the burning, clammy skin of her palm as she depressed the button with her thumb and pulled.  Lightning lit up the sky and thunder clapped loudly in distance but he remained there, waiting, eyes intent on her.

A hand on her shoulder jolted her and she jumped, screaming internally.  _Go away! Not now!_ her mind raced. A whimper died before it left her mouth.  

“Mom?” Henry asked quietly.  “Where’re you going?”

She quickly ran a hand over her face to swipe the tears away then turned to face her son with a plastered on smile.  “Oh, I was just trying to get some air,” she sniffed, barely holding it together.  “It’s so stuffy in here.”

Henry furrowed his brow in concern.  “You okay?” 

She squeezed his hand, panicking as each second passed that Bill wouldn’t be there when she turned around again.  “Fine Baby, I’ll be back in just a minute okay?”

But by the time she opened the door and felt the blast of moist air hit her, Bill was walking away.  Henry hovered just inside, trapping her.  _Please don’t go! Please, I’ve made a mistake!_ she wanted to shout, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her face fell and a soft sob escaped her lips.  This was wrong.  Being without him was all wrong but she didn’t know how to make it right. Her whole existence seemed to play out in her mind in those few seconds as she watched him open the door to his car, pausing in profile just briefly enough to catch her eye. He turned and smiled sadly and her heart broke. He was letting her go. He’d put himself out there one last time and now he was doing what she couldn’t do, just like she’d asked him to do and it was the most gut wrenching feeling she’d ever had to endure.

Tucking the watch back in his pocket he smiled again and tilted his chin quickly as if to say goodbye, then climbed into the car.  The windows were foggy and she strained to see him, just able to make out his outline and the slight bucking of the vehicle as he shifted into drive and pressed on the gas.  Slowly, like a bad dream, she watched him pull away, watched his brake lights luminesce at the stop sign and his turn signal blink then time sped up and he was gone. Gone.

Shattered, she did the only thing she knew how - squared her shoulders and walked back through the door.

 

tbc..


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later - the conclusion. There will, however, be an Epilogue.

“Hi.”  

Hillary swayed a little, putting her hand on the rough siding of the house to steady herself.  Her gaze was soft and a little unfocused, but there he was, right in front of her like a dream.

“Hillary?” 

The confusion in his eyes was adorable, she decided, smiling in spite of her hard fought intention to be serious. She had definitely made the right decision in coming, even if she had no idea what she hoped to accomplish.  The entire bottle of Chardonnay she’d consumed at the hotel bar had done a very good job of convincing her, also.

“Thank you, you’re adorable too.” He chuckled when she put a hand over her open mouth, clearly surprised that her thoughts had escaped.  “But what are you doing here?”

Hillary shook her head as if to clear her mind and made a visible effort to focus, as difficult as the task seemed with the volume of alcohol rushing through her veins. “Well...” Her voice was sing-songy. “Aren’t you gonna lemme in? I am suuurre we have a lot to disssscusss.”

He stepped aside and she staggered past him then stopped, lost.  “Where am I going?” she asked.  “Help me out here Billy.”

Bill pursed his lips to keep from smiling at her drunken exasperation. “We can go into the living room if you want.” His hand on her shoulder guided her forward and to the right.

“You got anything to drink in this place?” she slurred.

“How about some coffee?” 

Her brow furrowed. “No fun,” he heard her grumble.  

Steering her toward the couch, he watched as she plopped down on it unceremoniously, crossing her legs haphazardly in front of her. Bill sat next to her on the edge, fingers steepled.

“So what brings you to Arkansas?” he asked lightly, but he couldn’t quite keep the waver out of his voice. He could hear the pounding of his pulse in his ears.  Her presence after so long was unnerving him and it made him feel exposed, though she seemed oblivious in her current state.

“I heard they grew the biggest watermelons in the world,” she drawled, scooting closer to him on the couch so their legs touched. Her giggle bounced around the room, filling it, and it was as though no time at all had passed since they’d seen one another, as though their relationship hadn’t missed a beat. She rested her hand on his thigh and stared at it as she continued, “Really I came here to have a discussion with you about very serious matters but then I saw your face and you look so cute and warm that all I wanna do is make out with you.” She paused, leaning forward and raising her blue eyes toward his.  “What do you think about that?” she asked.

Bill smiled at her, he couldn’t help it, but it was accompanied by a sigh.  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” he said softly.

She reached up and drew his face closer to hers with a hand on his cheek.  “Why don’t we try it and find out?” Her voice was a whisper and he found himself drifting, staring at her lips until her features blurred from the proximity.  The first touch was electric and it transported him out of his head, allowing him to exist on feeling alone, if only for a moment.  Her tongue, wine-tinged and sweet, slipped easily into his mouth and he sucked on it.  He wanted to drink from her forever, licking and tasting until they were both sated, but he didn’t.  He couldn’t.  

Pulling out of the kiss, Bill held her away from him with his hands on her shoulders.  “Hillary,” he said, forcing her to open her eyes and focus on him.  “We can’t do this.”

Before he could protest she’d straddled him, body swaying so he had to hold her tight around her back to keep her from slipping.  She looped her arms around his neck.  “Why not?” she breathed, hips grinding into him torturously, up and down until he felt his willpower slipping.  

“You’re drunk,” he rasped. If he was honest, that excuse wasn’t going to hold out much longer if she kept moving against him like that.  

“Tipsy,” she corrected. “And I absolutely give you permission to take advantage of me.” She nipped the skin below his ear and he let out a shuddering breath.  He needed to put a stop to this. 

“Hillary,” he warned again.  “Please stop.”

Hillary stared at him for a moment, dazed, until his words permeated the fog in her mind, then her face fell.  “Oh,” she said, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.  She moved off of his lap and to her feet.  “I’m sorry.”  Her voice was monotone but he could almost hear the emotion behind it, like the dam was going to burst any second and they’d both be swept up in the torrent.  

“I...I’ve gotta go,” she stammered, scanning the room for some unknown object.  “If I could just find my fucking purse.”  Her eyes darted from place to place.  Anywhere and everywhere but on Bill.

“Shit!” she cried a moment later.  Defeated, she slumped down into the armchair and put her head in her hands.  Bill watched from the sofa, unsure of what he should do.  But when her soft whimpers turned to wracking sobs, he propelled into action, kneeling in front of her and prying her hands away so he could look at her face.  Hot, fat tears dripped from her eyes and she squeezed them shut to avoid his pitying expression.

“Hey,” he said softy.  “It’s okay, please don’t be upset.”

But Hillary’s emotions were too close to the surface.  Everything she’d stuffed down for the past year, and tried to drink away earlier in the evening was now hitting her full force with the brunt his rejection.  She cried louder.  “I’m sorry,” she choked.

Bill wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.  “What are you sorry for?” he asked, ducking his head to meet her eyes.

“Everything!” she sobbed.  “I let them all down, I let you down.  My life has become such a fucking disaster, but I kept telling myself that all I had to do was endure a little longer and maybe I could salvage things...for us...and now I see that I’ve ruined that too and now there’s nothing left.”  Her shoulders shook with her crying, great gulps of air being forced into her lungs with every wail.  

He put his hands on her knees and gave them a gentle pat.  “Let me get you some water,” he said, needing a purpose, needing to take care of her in some small way.  

The sounds of her tears faded as he made his way to the kitchen, scrubbing a hand over his face.  The last thing he had expected to be doing that night was consoling the drunken, sobbing love of his life who had suddenly appeared at his door after a year’s absence.  But there he was, doing just that.  

Bill came to a stop when he re-entered the living room, a tender smile lighting his features.  Hillary, having apparently spent herself, had curled up and passed out right there in the chair, slumped awkwardly against the side, arm hanging limply over it.  His heart melted.  

“Hill,” he said with a soft prod to her shoulder.  She stirred but didn’t awaken.  “Hillary.”  This time harder, she opened her eyes blearily.  “Come on,” he said.  “Let’s get you to bed.”  She closed her eyes again but smiled. “I thought that was my line,” she mumbled, but allowed him to slip an arm under hers to pull her up out of the chair, barely clinging to consciousness. 

He practically carried her to his room, then laid her down on his bed.  “Mmmm, this is nice,” she whispered when he slipped off her shoes and tucked her under his covers.  He was almost out the door when he heard her soft plea.  “Don’t leave me,” she begged, so low he almost didn’t hear her.  Her eyes were still closed and she was close to sleep again. “I’m not going anywhere,” he answered. 

 

*****

As Hillary struggled towards wakefulness, the first thing she was aware of was the softness of the pillow under her head, its smell distinct and familiar.  She snuggled deeper into it, inhaling again, before opening one eye to survey her surroundings.  Oddly, she didn’t feel discomfited, although her recollection of how she ended up in this particular bed was hazy at best.  Upon opening her other eye, she was greeted with an incessant pounding in her skull and flashes of the evening before, like pieces of a puzzle that hadn’t quite come together yet.  She closed her eyes again and rolled onto her back with a groan, then pushed herself up against the headboard.  

“Good morning.”  She jumped at the sound of his voice from the other side of the bed and turned her head to follow it.  Bill sat next to her, still in his sweatpants and sweatshirt, clutching a mug between his hands.  He smiled and passed it to her.  “Thought you might need this,” he said.  “Light and sweet, just like you like it.”

Hillary took a sip and let the warm, caffeinated brew fill her senses.  Her mind began to clear and she took a deep breath.  “Thanks,” she said with a slight grin.  “I’ve got to admit, I was hoping I’d wake up in your bed this morning, but not exactly under these circumstances.” 

Bill chuckled.  “And I’ve got to admit, I never in my wildest dreams thought you’d be in my bed and yet, here you are.”

She took another sip of coffee.  “Here I am,” she repeated.  The silence around them was heavy, charged, until she began to speak.

“I lost the election,” she stated simply. “Was trounced really.”

Bill rolled onto his side to face her.  “I’m so sorry,” he said.  “I’ll admit I was tempted to follow the campaign, but it was just too hard.  I did really hope you’d win it though, for what it’s worth.”

“My opponent played dirty and it paid off,” she said with a sigh.  “Seems Andrew had been having an affair of his own. For years, in fact. And one of many, apparently.”

Bill was dumbfounded. “Are you serious? How did you find out?”

Her laugh was bitter.  “When the newspaper article came out like everyone else. Hewett’s people found one of Andrew’s former girlfriends and she was more than happy to talk.  A little sleuthing on the part of the investigative reporter and that led them to his current mistress, who declined to comment but it didn’t matter, there were plenty of witnesses who did.  It all but sealed my fate.  Either people couldn’t vote for me because I was too stupid not to have known or were convinced I was cold and unfeeling because I couldn’t even keep my husband happy.  I was damned either way.”

“Jesus Hillary, that’s awful.”

“I told him to leave and filed for divorce immediately, but the damage was done. He and his girlfriend are living together now.”  She shook her head. “He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

His hand slipped into hers where it rested on the bed. “How’d your son take it?” he asked. “Divorce is hard under the best of circumstances but God, that had to be torture for him.”

Hillary laced their fingers together absentmindedly. “Surprisingly, he’s doing okay.  He was devastated at first, and rightly so, but he told me later he always knew there was something missing between Andrew and me, I mean it wasn’t that hard to figure out.  He was angry at the way it came out, but he’s made peace with his father and truthfully, I’m grateful for that.”  She beamed a little. “Actually, he just started at University of Southern California on a full baseball scholarship. He’s loving it in L.A. I miss him like crazy but I’m glad he’s settled and happy.” She rolled on her side and mirrored his position, their hands still intertwined.

“So, how’s it feel to have an empty nest?” he asked. His heart, which had been slowly thawing since she showed up at his door the previous evening, was thudding harder than he thought possible.

She looked down, almost shy.  “Well, I won’t have any nest for much longer. After Henry left I put the house on the market, it’s in escrow now.  Andrew and I will split the profits and then I’ll be set adrift.”

“Where will you go?” The question leapt from his mouth before he could stop himself.

Her eyes met his.  “Arkansas is charming,” she said sweetly.  “And I do love watermelon. I don’t suppose you know anyone who’s looking for a roommate?”

A smile lit up his features.  “Well...” he began, “It just so happens I _do_ know a guy,” he drawled.  “There’s just one problem.”  He shifted closer to her, as though he was going to let her in on a secret.

“Oh no, what’s that?” she swallowed the butterflies that were fluttering about in her abdomen.

“He only has one bedroom, just one lonely bed.  You might have to bunk together, you know, to save space.  But I bet he’d be willing to give you a break on the rent.” His hand went to her hip, resting, but not moving. 

She closed more of the gap between them and traced the letters on his sweatshirt with her fingertips. “Hmmm, that might be a problem,” she said coyly.  “What side of the bed does he like to sleep on?” 

Bill pulled her closer still, close enough to whisper in her ear, “Whatever side you’re on,” he breathed.  Their lower bodies were flush together, almost trembling with anticipation.

“Mmmm, he drives a hard bargain,” she said as she threw a leg over his hip.

His mouth moved from her ear to her lips while his fingers tilted her chin up.  Eyes searching hers, burning with everything he’d held at bay for so long. “He’s about to,” he said, capturing her lips in a kiss, slow and sweet and perfect.  

She eased out of it to look at him again, unshed tears shining bright. “Just so there’s no question,” she began, “I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Do you have a problem with that?” 

Bill pretended to think.  “Not a single one,” he declared. He rolled them over and stretched on top of her, bringing her hands above her head with one of his own.  “And just so we’re clear, I’m going to take off this dress you’ve got on and reacquaint myself with every inch of your body before I spend the rest of the morning making love to you. Do you have a problem with that?”  Hillary bit her lip and shook her head.

His other hand began slowly raising the hem of her dress, fingertips skimming up her calves and outer thighs. She sat up and allowed him to lift it over her head, leaving her in just bra and panties, then she helped him out of his own clothes so they were finally skin to skin after so long.  

Bill kept his promise, kissing, nipping and licking her from head to toe, breathing words of love and desire against her heated skin.  When at last he settled between her thighs and gently pushed inside of her, the whole last year was all but forgotten.  Their lovemaking was slow and tender, bodies sliding together and moving in tandem until they tipped over the edge, one after the other. 

“Hill?” he said as they lay together afterwards.

She was sleepy and sated, his voice softly pulling her out of her slumber.  “Hmmm?” 

“When you said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, what did you mean?”

She chuckled against his chest, a warm puff of air on his skin. “I meant I want to be with you until we’re both old and gray and liver spotted and sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch,” she said.

He caressed the back of her head. “So...do you promise to love, honor and cherish me, all the days of your life?”

Hillary lifted up on her elbow to look at him, throat suddenly dry. “I do,” she choked.

Bill smiled. “And might you be willing to say those words in front of a judge?”

She licked her lips. “I might.”

His smile brightened.  He held her tighter. “Well then,” he beamed. “It seems we have some plans to make.”

“We do,” she answered.

 

-The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented and enjoyed this story. It has been a great challenge for me to write, and the kind feedback has kept me going when I was feeling discouraged!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present Day

October 11, 2017

 

“Honey.” Hillary’s weight depressed the mattress beside him, her warm hand pressed into his cheek.  The shiny diamond on her ring finger glinted in the morning light, as it had for years.

Bill scrunched up his face but his eyes remained closed.  _Just a few more minutes_ , he thought. “You better come bearing coffee, or this marriage is over,” he groaned, peeking at her with one eye.  

Her other arm raised, bringing the stainless steel travel mug into his line of sight like a lifeline.  “You think after all this time, I don’t know my husband?” she asked with a gleam in her eye.  

Hillary passed the cup to him and he took a long sip. Heavenly. “Mmmm, you do know the way to my heart,” he confirmed.

She nodded.  “I do.  And that’s why I’ve got breakfast waiting for you downstairs. Get yourself up and I’ll see you down there. The kids are out getting the flowers and the cake.”  

Bill sipped his coffee. “So, we’re all alone then?” he inquired.  

“For now.”

A light peck to his lips and she began to move away, but Bill had other ideas.  

He quickly placed his mug on the bedside table and grabbed his wife around the waist, pulling her down on top of him and swiftly rolling them over.  His mouth went to her ear.  “Hillary...” he nipped her earlobe, hot breath scorching her, then moved to the other side.  “Diane...” he repeated the motion, feeling her shudder against him.  His lips trailed up to her forehead, between her eyebrows. “Rodham...” he murmured, then placed a kiss there before moving to her mouth. “Clinton.” The last word was a whisper against her lips, which were curved into a smile.

“Has a nice ring to it,” she said in between kisses.  “Especially the Clinton part.”

Bill looked down at her, eyes reflecting all the love and desire he still felt for her. “Yeah?  Think you’ll keep it?”

She chuckled and looped her arms around his neck, pressing her lower body up and into his. “Hmmm, well the twenty year trial period ends today,” she said, pretending to think. “But I could probably be convinced to sign a permanent contract.” Her hips met his again and he moaned.

“Baby,” he said, stretching out on top of her languidly. “Allow me to highlight some of the perks of a long-term commitment.”  He kissed her soft and slow, humming into her mouth as their tongues mingled lazily.  Her legs fell open to cradle him, as was their natural inclination after so many years together, and he settled between them. 

“So far so good,” she told him with a sultry smile.  “But why do I have a feeling breakfast is going to be very cold?” His pelvis ground into hers in a circular motion and she could feel the intense heat between their bodies, the hardness through Bill’s pajama pants.

“It’ll keep,” he said as he divested her of her robe and dropped it over the side of the bed. 

Hillary sat up a fraction to unbutton his top and pull it off his arms. Her hands instinctively went to his bare chest, touching the planes there before fanning out to rest on his biceps, so tight from holding himself above her, then down to the waistband of his bottoms to untie them and push them down.  He rolled off of her to kick them all the way off and she took the opportunity to slip her chemise over her head and situate herself back on the pillows to await his return.

Bill’s eyes softened when he looked at her, naked and prone.  Resting on his elbow beside her, they held hers as he ran a finger down from her collar bone, between her full breasts to rim around her navel, causing her to quiver.  He settled a hand on her soft abdomen.  “Twenty years of seeing you like this,” he said reverently, “And I still can’t believe I get the privilege.”

She laid her hand over his. “A lot more of me to see than there was then,” she said self-deprecatingly.

Fingers lacing through hers, his voice was gentle.  “And all of it perfect.  Soft and curvy and warm and sweet.  And I’m in love with every inch.”  He skirted up to cup a breast.  “Beautiful.”

His tone was inflaming her and his touch was stoking those flames. She wanted him, she had always wanted him, would always want him.  After twenty years of marriage, it somehow managed to feel new and exciting yet beautifully familiar.  He was her other half, her best friend, the one person who knew her almost as well as she knew herself and sometimes she still marveled that he felt the same way about her.

Reaching between them, Hillary circled her hand around his hard length, pumping up and down a few times, spreading the thick fluid over the head.  Days like today when just words were enough to make them ache with desire, their passion was quick to rise. She pulled him into her, impossibly deep, and they both moaned in unison at the intimacy of being joined. 

“I love you...I love you...I love you.” Like a balm; healing him, protecting him.

Hillary’s orgasm washed over her in waves a few moments later, ebbing and flowing, trapping Bill in its wake until he buried his face in her neck and cried. He released himself into her body with a groan.

“I think,” she said in the afterglow, “I’m definitely convinced.”

Bill’s brow furrowed. “Of?” he asked.

“Of the merits of long-term commitment,” she said. “I’d say this calls for a celebration.”

“Yeah? Didn’t we just do that?,” His fingers traced the line of her spine as she lay next to him.

“No no, that was just a demonstration,” she said. “A formal, public declaration is necessary.  Say, noon today?  The gazebo out back?  You in a tux and me in a dress? Kids and grandkids standing up to witness it?”

His face held the pretense of thought. “Will there be cake?  And champagne? And possibly a honeymoon to some place warm and tropical where I get to see that luscious body basking in the rays of the sun?”

“Mmmm hmmm.  But only if we get our butts out of this bed and get ready.”  She started to get up but he held her, just a moment longer.

“Happy Anniversary Hill,” he said.  “I can’t wait to marry you...again.”

“See you at noon Billy. Don’t be late,” she told him as she swept out of the room.

Married. Again. Re-declaring their love in front of all of the people that mattered most in their world. Bill closed his eyes with a smile, sending a silent thank you to whoever up there had made this possible, had given him such a blessed life. 

Twenty one years ago he met a girl...

 

~Finished


End file.
